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Reminiscences 

of 

A War-Time Statesman 
and Diplomat 

1830—1915 



By 

Frederick W. Seward 

Assistant Secretary of State during the Administrations of 
Lincoln, Johnson, and Hayes 



Illustrated 



G. P. Putnam's Sons 

New York and London 

O^be Iknicfterbocftet press 

1916 



.7 



Copyright, 1916 

BY 

ANNA M. SEWARD 



^Z-^^ 



/^ 



Ube "Rnfclierboclter press, "ftew ffiorli 



PREFACE 

My long life is drawing toward its close. The portions 
of it that will have interest for those who are to come 
after me, I suppose are chiefly those which illustrate the 
character of the times and the characteristics of the 
persons concerned in them. So I set down my recollec- 
tions of some of them here. Some of them have already 
been narrated in my Life and Letters of William H. Seward. 

F. W. S. 

MONTROSE-ON-HUDSON 
I914 



m 



CONTENTS 



PART I 
BEFORE THE WAR 

First Recollections 

Hotel Life in Albany 

Christmas .... 

My Great- Grandmother 

A Carriage Journey 

First Visit to Washington . 

"Colonel John" . 

The Panic of 1837 — Shinplasters 

"Henry Clay at Auburn" 

The Governor's Mansion 

New Year's Day in Albany 

A Political Caricature 

The Pearl Street Academy . 

Early Railroad Experiences 

Early Theatrical Memories 

Applicants for Pardons 

The "Morus multicaulis" Fever 

The Harrison Campaign of 1840 



PAGE 
I 

2 

3 
3 
9 
17 
19 
21 
22 

23 
28 

30 
31 
34 
36 

38 
42 

44 



VI 



Contents 



50 



' Office 



The Helderberg War 

An Artistic Contest 

John Quincy Adams at Auburn 

Entering College 

Leaving College . 

Washington in '49 and 

The Compromise Debate 

The " Evening Journal 

Editorial Topics . 

A New Word. 

A Thanksgiving Relic 

Albany Life . 

An Albany Concert 

Kossuth at Albany 

The Fugitive Slave Law 

Van Zandt and "Uncle Tom's Cabin" 

A Village of Louis XIV. 's Time . 

Anticosti ..... 

Napoleon III. and Eugenie at Compiegne 



48 

53 
56 
58 
66 

68 

84 
90 

91 
92 

95 
96 
98 

105 
III 

115 
120 
128 



PART II 
DURING THE WAR 

•^ The Baltimore Plot . .^ . 
The Old State Department '^ 
The Month of Suspense . ". 



134 
139 
145 



Contents 



vu 



PAGE 

The Call to Arms 150 

Washington Beleaguered . . . . .155 

The War Begun 157 

A College Classmate 161 

General Scott . . . . . . .165 

General Scott's Stories . . . . .169 

Saint Cyr Cadets ....... 171 

The Circular Dispatch on the Military Situation . 1 72 
Under Fire from a French Frigate . . . .173 

Why Maryland did not Secede . . . .175 

France and England vs. the United States . . 1 78 
After Bull Run ....... 181 

The French Princes . . . . . .181 

Mount Vernon in War Time . . . .185 

The "Trent" Case 186 

A Series of Victories . . . . . -193 

A Cruise between Two Armies . . . .194 

A Season of Reverses and Depression . .204 

Farmers* Boys in Battle ..... 206 

The Military Situation . . . . .212 

Our Foreign Relations in the War . . .213 
A Moorish Episode . . . . . .219 

Signing the Emancipation Proclamation . . 226 
A Visit to the Army of the Potomac . . .228 
An Excursion with the Diplomatic Corps . . 236 



VUl 



Contents 



Changing the Commanding General 
Altered Aspect of the War 
Washington during Early's Raid 
The Year's Record 
The End of the War . 
Last Meeting of Lincoln and Seward 
Lincoln's Last Cabinet Meeting . 
Assassination Night 
After the Assassination 



238 
242 

243 
249 

251 
253 
254 
258 
262 



PART III 
AFTER THE WAR 

Our West Indian Cruise At Sea .... 263 

St. Thomas . . . 283 

Santa Cruz . . . 302 

San Domingo . . 306 

Hayti .... 315 

At Havana . . . 328 

A Year's Interval ...... 343 

A Diplomatic Visit to San Domingo . . . 344 

The Story of Alaska 356 

The Story of Alaska — The Treaty of Purchase . 360 

My Father's Diary — and Others . . . 365 

Oriental Indemnity Funds ..... 368 



Contents ix 



The Japanese Commissioners. 

China's Entry into the Field of Diplomacy 

The Portrait Gallery ..... 

The "Great Tyee" in Alaska 

The Guest of a Nation .... 

Napoleon III. and his Ministers ] 

A Talk with M. Drouyn de l'Huys ] 

Retirement to the Country 

Legislative Life ...... 

A Puzzled Potentate ..... 

The Vice-President of the Confederacy 

The Recognition of Porfirio Diaz 

The Story of Samoa ..... 

A Night Move against a Mob 

The Outcome of a Fugitive Slave Case 

Country Life ...... 

President Arthur and the Yorktown Centennial 
Taxation in New York .... 

Alaska Revisited ...... 

" The Inland Passage 

" Our Passengers .... 

" Wrangel ...... 

" Sitka ....... 

" Glaciers 



371 
375 
381 
383 
390 

420 

429 
429 

431 
432 
435 

437 
441 

445 
447 
447 
453 
455 
455 
456 
456 

457 
460 



Contents 



Alaska, The Tredwell Mine 

" Juneau .... 
** Skagway .... 
" The White Pass Railroad 
The Alaska Boundary Dispute 
Hudson Centennial Celebrations 
Epilogue — History and Memory . 
Index . 



PAGE 
460 

461 

461 

462 

469 

473 



ILLUSTRATIONS 

PACK 

Frederick W. Seward .... Frontispiece 

William H. Seward ...... 2 

Frederick W. Seward, as he Looked in 1866 . 342 
Signing the Treaty for the Purchase of Alaska . 360 

From the painting by Leutze 

Frederick W. Seward's Residence at Montrose- 

on-the-Hudson 446 

View from Frederick W. Seward's Residence on 

the Hudson River ...... 454 



Reminiscences 

of 

A War-Time Statesman and Diplomat 



Reminiscences 



ol a 



War-Time Statesman 
And Diplomat 



PART I 

Before tKe War 

1833. 

First Recollections. Here is the first scene of which I 
have any vivid and connected remembrance. 

My brother and I, sleeping together in the trundle bed, 
are suddenly awakened at night, and find the candles all 
lighted. My father is kindling a fire in the small box stove. 
Then my mother takes me up to be dressed. From the 
talk between her and the nurse, I learn that we are about 
to start on a journey, and that it is three o'clock in the 
morning. Peering out of the window I see that it all 
looks dark, except that the ground is covered with snow. 
At the gate are two bright lanterns, and horses are stamp- 
ing in the snow. This, I am told, means that the sleigh- 
stage is there, in which we are to travel. The whole 
scene is novel and exhilarating, but suddenly changes, 
when we get inside of the dark, cold stage, groping for 
seats among the buffalo skins. The curtains are fastened 



2 Hotel Life in Albany 

down, the windows closed. Shuffling of feet and subdued 
voices are heard, from which I know there are other pas- 
sengers, but can see nothing. The stage starts and goes 
sHding and bumping over the rough road. Wrapped up 
and in my mother's lap, I soon fall into a doze, and after 
a series of naps, wake up again in daylight, to be told that 
we have come twenty-six miles to Syracuse. 

Two or three dreary, weary days and nights in the 
stage now follow, varied only by stopping to change 
horses, to get meals and occasional hours of sleep. This 
is the method of journeying from Auburn to Albany, in 
the year 1833. 

January, 1834. 

Hotel Life in Albany. Now we are living in a hotel at 
Albany. It is called "Bement's. " In front of it is a 
broad, smooth, sloping road, covered with ice and snow. 
This, I am told, is "State Street." The sun is shining 
through our frosty windows. Sleigh bells are jingling 
and people are walking briskly up and down the hill. 
Everything looks bright and cheerful. Indoors, our 
rooms are light and warm. There is a fire in the grate. 
There are toys and pictures, and other children to play 
with. There are nuts and raisins and various sweet 
things at dinner. There is plenty of light and plenty of 
noise. On the whole, I like hotel life very much. 

Many visitors come in, all polite to my mother, and 
some very kindly to me. There are three whose visits 
are frequent. These are my "Uncle Gary," my "Uncle 
Tracy," and "Uncle Weed." I am fond of all of them, 
especially the latter. He is a tall, dark-haired man, with 
a very gentle voice, who takes long and vigorous strides 
as he walks up the street. They are not my "real" 
uncles — not my father's brothers- — but his intimate friends. 
They often go with him up the hill, to the large building 




Lyj-i^Li. 



Christmas 3 

of red freestone, with a white cupola, having a statue on 
top. The statue represents "Justice," they tell me; and 
that is the Capitol, where my father goes to attend to his 
business in the Senate. 

December, 1834. 

Christmas. Christmas morning at Auburn! Every- 
thing is gay and full of fun. I do not remember much of 
other Christmases; nevertheless it seems to me a long 
established custom, and from what I have heard about 
it, I am expecting a joyous day. My mother says we 
must not get up to look at our stockings hanging by the 
fireplace, until each has counted, in French, the years of 
his age. It is a part of the general fun to discover that 
my age is equivalent to a cat (quatre), and that my 
brother's is wheat ihuit). Then, a mad rush for the 
stockings, which of course are loaded with toys and candy. 
There is a red-coated soldier with a black shako. There 
is a dog that opens his mouth and barks and there are 
other marvels. I take mine down to show to my grand- 
father. "Merry Christmas, Grandpa!" "What!" he 
says, "is this Christmas? Then I must make you some- 
thing." He picks up a piece of wood, and by deft and 
skilful use of his jack-knife has presently completed a 
miniature snow-shovel. In the kitchen, where the ser- 
vants and children are congregated, an earnest debate 
arises over the question whether Santa Claus is a real 
person or not. My brother, with the wisdom and experi- 
ence of eight years, cuts the argument short by saying, 
"Anyhow there is somebody. Things can't get into the 
stockings just of themselves." To this conclusion we all 
agree. 

My Great-Grandmother. She is sitting by the window, 
not far from the blazing woodfire on the hearth. Behind 



4 My Great-Grandmother 

her rocking chair is the high corner cupboard, containing 
her treasures, into which we are not allowed to pry. She 
is an erect, stately little body, notwithstanding her eighty- 
four years, with white hair and neat prim lace cap and 
collar, silk neckerchief, and grey dress. Her kind old 
eyes beam through gold-rimmed spectacles upon the 
children, for whom "Grandma's Room" is always a fav- 
ourite resort. 

The wood fire needs frequent replenishing, and so at 
intervals, Peter, the "hired man," comes in with an armful. 
To save the carpet, there is a little pathway of rag car- 
peting, running from door to chimney, for him to walk on ; 
which we also try to walk on — when we don't forget it. 

We are telling Grandma that it is bitter cold outside, 
and that our fingers are "most frozen" in our mittens. 
The snow is four feet deep, and when I am in the shovelled 
path, I can see nothing but the sky. A rooster is crowing 
somewhere and Peter, who is tall enough to see, tells me 
he is on the top of the snow-drift. Roads are gone and 
fences are covered. 

Then Grandma tells us of "the hard winter" in the 
time of the Revolution, when cannon were dragged across 
the Hudson River on the ice. She has plenty of stories, 
but we especially like to hear those about "the War." 
We are always ready to lay aside even Puss in Boots and 
Mother Hubbard with their beautiful pictures, to draw 
our stools up around her chair and listen, — for Grandma's 
stories are "real" ones. 

She tells us that when she was a girl, her name was 
Paulina Titus until she grew up and married Josiah Miller, 
who soon became a Captain in the Continental Army. 
She tells us of the little village of Bedford, where they used 
to live, and how people there began to talk of "bad times 
coming." How some said King George was crazy, and 
others said his ministers were fools. How folks saw great 



My Great-Grandmother 5 

displays of "Northern lights" with flashes of blue and red, 
in rows, marching toward each other, like armies in battle. 
Then, how ships began to come into New York harbour 
loaded with soldiers and cannon. How there were ru- 
mors of riots and prisoners in New York. How the farm- 
ers began to get together their old muskets and swords 
and cartridge-boxes and powder-horns, and to hide them 
in barns. How they began to cast bullets in their kitchens 
out of odd pieces of lead. How they had secret meetings 
and drills, and "committees of safety." And, at last, 
how riders came post haste down the Boston Road, with 
the news that there had been fighting at Lexington. And 
so began the long years of battles and sieges and hardships. 

Then she tells us how Bedford awoke to the discovery 
that it was in the midst of "war's alarms." It was in the 
"Neutral Ground," which neither side could hold,- — so 
it was plundered and ravaged by both. One morning 
the hen-roost would be found robbed of all its fowls. 
Another, all the hams and beef would be stolen from the 
smoke-house. Then the com would disappear from the 
crib, and the cow from her stable. Occasionally a bullet 
from some unseen gun would crash through a window pane. 
These were supposed to be the deeds of two gangs of 
marauders, one of which was known as the "Cowboys" 
and the other as the "Skinners." The "Cowboys" were 
said to be in sympathy with the British, and the "Skin- 
ners" with the Americans. But one was about as bad 
as the other. More to be feared than either, were the 
raids of "Tarleton's Dragoons," and "Delancey's Horse," 
their purpose being, not merely to plunder, but to bum 
and kill. 

Most thrilling of all is the story of how she sat by the 
window one morning and saw two horsemen galloping 
down the road. As they passed the house, one shouted, 
"The Regulars are coming!" Then they went on over 



6 My Great-Grandmother 

the hill. Presently the sound of firing was heard; and 
soon after one horse came galloping back with the saddle 
empty. 

Then the heads of an advancing column appeared. 
One glance was enough to perceive that they were the 
dreaded dragoons of Colonel Tarleton. They came 
slowly, as if anticipating resistance. But there was none. 
All the able-bodied men were with the army. Only wo- 
men, children, invalids, and a few negro slaves remained 
in the village. The troopers halted in the middle of the 
broad street. Then, in obedience to some order of the 
commander, several of them dismounted and entered 
the nearest houses. Seizing the burning brands from the 
kitchen fires, they scattered them about the rooms, where 
they would set things in a blaze. From one roof after 
another, smoke began to pour out, and flames appeared 
at the windows. The inmates, hastily gathering their 
children and such clothing as they could lay hands on, 
fled for their lives, — some to distant friends, some to the 
woods. 

As the conflagration approached her home, old Mrs. 
Titus (Paulina's mother) went out into the street, and 
taking hold of the bridle of the commanding officer, said 
something to him. He bent down, and they conversed 
in low tones. Then, raising his head, and pointing toward 
Mrs. Titus's home, he gave the order: "You need not 
burn that house." What was said can only be conjec- 
tured, but it was presumed that she told him that she was 
a loyal subject of King George. Probably she did not 
mention that her son-in-law. Captain Miller, was just 
then engaged in harassing Tarleton 's flanks and rear. 
When night fell, all that was left of Bedford was one 
dwelling, and a dozen or two of heaps of smoking 
ashes. 

"And when was the war done and over, Grandma?" 



My Great-Grandmother 7 

ask her impatient little hearers. The old lady pauses in 
her knitting, to count up. "Four years later," she says. 
Then she describes how the British marched out of New- 
York, as the Americans marched in, and how different 
the two armies looked. The British, with their neat 
uniforms, scarlet coats, and gleaming muskets, moving at 
regulation step, through silent or scowling crowds. The 
Americans, swinging cheerily down the road, with every 
kind of shot-gun and rifle, some well clad and some in rags 
and tatters, and woefully deficient in shoes. Some had 
their feet bound up in bloody rags to protect them from 
the frosty ground. But how the people cheered, and 
cried, and laughed, and wept, as they saw them come 
marching in! Grandma wipes her spectacles now, at the 
remembrance of it. 

There is also another tale, now become a family tradi- 
tion. But like other family traditions, it is open to cavil 
or doubt, on account of lacking corroborating evidence. 
So far as I recall it, the substance of it was this. 

About a year after the burning of Bedford, Captain 
Josiah Miller came home one day, and said: "Paulina, 
you can't live here any longer. We must go north and 
get inside of Putnam's lines." A few days later the whole 
household, with such effects as they could carry, started 
on horseback toward Fishkill. 

The journey was long, and the roads were bad. When 
night came on, they had only reached Crompond. They 
bethought themselves of a cousin, Andreas Miller, living 
there, who sometimes "entertained travellers." 

Andreas met them at the door, and greeted them cor- 
dially, but said: "I can't give you very good accommoda- 
tion, for I have two travellers staying here, already." 

When they went in to supper, the two travellers were 
there. One looked like a farmer, in a rough grey coat; 
the other was a handsome young gentleman in dark clothes, 



8 My Great-Grandmother 

who laid aside a long riding cloak. Both were taciturn, 
and retired early. 

The next morning Andreas said: "The other travellers 
were earlier than you. They have started already for 
Pine Bridge." 

The Millers duly reached their destination "inside of 
Putnam's lines." A few days later, she was startled by 
her husband's announcement : 

"Well, Paulina, that handsome young man you met at 
Crompond turns out to be a British spy, and General 
Washington is going to hang him!" 



Half a century passes. Sons and daughters have been 
born to the Millers, have grown up, married, and scattered 
far and wide. Captain Josiah is sleeping in the church- 
yard. His widow, Paulina, is now a great-grandmother, 
and is living at Auburn, with her son, Elijah. He is a 
Judge, and is my grandfather. To us, he looks almost as 
old as his mother. We often hear the two talking over 
the events of "the War." 

"Yes, Elijah," she says. General Washington was a 
good man — a great and good man — and he did a great deal 
for the country. But I never liked his hanging Major 
Andre." 

"But, mother, Andre was a spy.' 

"No, Elijah, Major Andre did not mean to be a spy. 
It was that wicked traitor, Arnold, who brought him into 
his trouble. If Arnold had been hung, I should say he 
richly deserved it." 

"But, mother, Washington hadn't got Arnold, and he 
had got Andre. He tried to exchange them, but Sir 
Henry Clinton wouldn't do it. They were conspirators 
— and such conspirators deserve hanging. They generally 
get it too, when they are caught." 



A Carriage Journey 9 

"It surely was a conspiracy, and a great crime, Elijah, 
• — but I have never approved of the hanging of Major 
Andre." 

"Well, mother, if he hadn't been caught and hung, I 
think you and I wouldn't be here to-day, to talk about 
him!" 

1835. 

A Carriage Journey. "A journey! A long journey, in 
a carriage with my father and mother. Going miles 
away from home, seeing new places and meeting strange 
people. Won't it be fun?" So I say to myself and to 
my companions. 

On a mild May morning, the journey actually begins. 
In my new green jacket and cap, I am sitting on the front 
seat of the carriage, by the side of William Johnson, the 
coloured driver. Before us are two stout grey horses 
one of whom William calls "Lion," and the other "the 
Doctor." On the back seat are my father and mother. 
The baggage and clothing are mysteriously stowed away 
beneath the seats and behind. There is an extension 
top, to put up when it rains, a fishing-rod to catch moun- 
tain trout, a pail to water the horses, and a tin drinking 
cup for use at wayside streams. 

The greys trot off briskly, as if they liked the prospect 
of travel. Soon we are climbing and descending hills 
on the way to Cayuga Lake. The first two or three days 
are over roads we have known about. We stop to visit 
cousins, uncles, aunts, and old friends, at Seneca Falls, 
Aurora, and Ludlowville. Then we strike off into regions 
heretofore unknown. We follow the banks of the Cayuga 
Creek down to the valley of the Susquehanna. 

Now we are in the Pennsylvania mountains, following 
the valleys of the Lycoming and the Susquehanna. The 
rugged and narrow roads wind along the mountainsides, 



10 A Carriage Journey 

crossing wild gorges, over dangerous looking bridges. 
There are rocky cliffs stretching far up on one side, while 
deep abysses open on the other. There is apparently 
impenetrable forest in each direction, and we seem to be 
out of sight of civilization. 

We spend the nights in such rustic taverns as the region 
affords. In the morning William recounts to us such 
tales as he has heard overnight, about wolves and robbers 
and rattlesnakes. Of robbers and snakes we see none, 
but we hear the wolves howling high up in the mountain 
forest. When I inquire as to the possibility of their com- 
ing down, I am reassured by the reply that they are prob- 
ably chasing the deer, and are not looking for little boys. 

We lunch under shady trees, gather wild flowers, and 
fish for trout. Rhododendrons, scarlet and crimson, dot 
the valley and mountain. My father and mother talk 
to each other about the "scenery." The term is a vague 
one to me, but I understand it to refer to the mountains, 
hills, woods, and waters that they evidently admire. For 
my own part, I think I prefer the roads near the villages, 
where the children are playing, and the dogs run out to 
bark, and the chickens scurry across the roadway, and 
people come along in farm wagons loaded with wood, or 
hay or produce. Sometimes a young colt will be accom- 
panying the farmer's team; and I am in great hopes that 
we can persuade one to change his mind and follow us. 

Most of the men we meet nod their heads, and some 
say, "Good-morning," as we pass. I ask my father if 
they are all acquaintances of his. He says, no, but that 
it is the custom of the country to exchange salutations in 
passing, and a very good custom it is. My mother adds 
that travellers should be pleasant to those they meet, if 
they want others to be pleasant to them,' — a maxim that 
I think I will treasure up for future use. 

Names of places do not mean much to persons of my 



A Carriage Journey ii 

age, but a few of those of the largest towns stick in my 
memory — Athens, Towanda, Williamsport, Milton, and 
finally Harrisburg, the State capital. 

Next we are traversing a less mountainous and more 
thickly settled region. The roads are broader and more 
level. There are cultivated farms, large barns, fields of 
grain, herds of cattle and sheep. There are towns with 
hotels and mills and shops. There are many more coloured 
people both in town and country. 

Every day we meet more and more of summer. Red 
cherries and ripe strawberries abound, and melons are 
ripening in the sun. So we pass on through southern 
Pennsylvania and northern Maryland, pausing a day or 
a night at Carlisle, Chambersburg, Hagerstown, Boones- 
borough, Shepherdstown, and Harpers Ferry. 

Even a small boy could appreciate and remember the 
magnificent panorama of scenery at Harpers Ferry' — 
the towering hills and meeting valleys, that mark the 
junction of the Shenandoah with the Potomac. 

As we enter the "Old Dominion" and pursue our way 
through the "Valley of Virginia," my father tells us of 
the historic events that occurred in the region we are 
traversing, of Washington's early campaigns, of Braddock's 
defeat, and of the battles and skirmishes of the "French 
and Indian War." That was a long while ago. It all 
belongs to the past. If any prophet should arise to tell us 
that even in our own lifetime, we shall again see this peace- 
ful region become the scene of war, and of advancing and 
retreating armies and bloody battles, we certainly should 
not believe him. 

"You will not find towns and hotels in the Valley like 
those in your own State." So our friends at Harrisburg 
had warned us. Certainly travel here is very different. 
The roads are muddy and stony, the fields neglected and 
overgrown with weeds. Thickets abound on either side 



12 A Carriage Journey 

of us. We meet few carriages or wagons, and only occa- 
sionally travellers on horseback. Dwellings are seldom 
in sight. The planters' houses stand back from the road, 
and the negro cabins huddle near them. 

Such a day's ride might lead us to expect that our night's 
lodging would be in some dilapidated old town or noisy 
tavern. But nothing of the sort is before us. We drive 
up an avenue of spreading trees. The carriage stops at 
the door of a large, low, comfortable looking house, with 
wide porches or veranda, covered with vines. Evidently 
it is the house of a gentleman. The owner meets us at 
the door with hospitable greeting, directs his servants to 
take charge of our horses, and ushers us into the parlour, 
where his family give us an equally cordial welcome. 
They are well dressed, well bred, and not at all inquisitive, 
though ready to hear the latest news and talk on the topics 
of the day. The table is loaded with the luxuries of the 
season. Our bedrooms are neat and comfortable, and 
there is an abundance of black servants, patient, gentle, 
and polite. In a word, it is a typical planter's home. 

If there is at times a lack of neatness or dispatch, we 
should hardly observe it, if we did not sometimes hear 
the master or mistress speak of one of our smiling attend- 
ants as a "lazy, no account, " or "trifling nigger." When 
we take our departure, it seems as if we were parting from 
old acquaintances, and the pressing invitations to come 
again are evidently sincere. Our host asks no compen- 
sation, but will sometimes accept it, in a way that seems 
to imply that he does so to please us, as much as himself. 

My mother remarks that she has often been told that 
she could not travel in Virginia with any pleasure, because 
the taverns were so poor. But she finds it just the reverse. 
Not only are the planters so hospitable, but even the few 
little taverns we meet are neat and quiet, without noise 
or bustle or dram-drinking, — and one is not annoyed with 



A Carriage Journey 13 

the crowd of lounging topers so frequent at the country- 
taverns of New York. 

My father replies that the Virginians have had the re- 
putation for a hundred years of being a frank, hospitable, 
vigorous people, justly proud of their State as the " Mother 
of Presidents." But, he adds, Virginia is now deteriorat- 
ing, materially as well as politically, since she became the 
breeder of slaves for the Southern and Western markets. 
And the worst is that the people are unconscious of the 
cause of the decay, and in a great degree ignorant that 
other parts of the country enjoy greater prosperity. 

Much of this talk is beyond my comprehension until 
recalled by later events. I think I am the one who enjoys 
the journey most. When we come to what William calls 
an "ole Virginny bridge," I like to see "Lion" and the 
"Doctor" plunge into the clear stream, and to watch the 
water coming up to the hubs of the wheels. That we are 
travelling chiefly in the woods is no hardship, since there 
are so many shady trees, wild flowers, birds, colts, and 
chipmunks. Then there is always the prospect of coming 
across another "cake and beer" shop by the roadside. 
The beer I do not care for, but the cake (usually fresh 
gingerbread) is always welcome. 

The humble, submissive black race that we meet every- 
where seem so loyal to the white, that it is a surprise to 
find that apprehensions of harm from them are enter- 
tained. William, our coachman, comes to say that 
he is stopped in the road, whenever he goes out after 
sundown. 

"But you are a free man, William?" 

"I told them so, but they say it don't make any differ- 
ence, — that I have got to have a pass." 

So it proves. There seems to be a sort of general un- 
derstanding, that no coloured man is allowed to be out 
after dark, without a written permit from some white man, 



14 A Carriage Journey 

presumably his employer, and that anybody may stop him 
and demand to see it. 



Arriving in the afternoon at a large plantation, I stray 
out of the parloiu* to a sort of gallery or shed, adjoining the 
house. There I find a group of twenty or more little 
"darkies," playing and chattering like so many monkeys. 
Some are older than I am, some younger. All have only 
very scanty clothing and some none at all. They stop 
their play, and surround me, though at a little distance 
away. Yet I instinctively perceive that their looks imply 
no dislike or fear, but rather pleasure and admiration. 

Somewhat abashed by the circle of bright eyes and 
gleaming teeth, I turn to stroke the back of the old cat, 
reposing on the gallery rail,- — saying "Poor Pussy — poor 
Pussy!" Instantly, there is an outburst of joyous laugh- 
ter from the whole group, as if I had made the finest jest 
in the world. "Lil' mas'r say 'po' Puss!'" they repeat. 
Then one by one they timidly advance to stroke the cat, 
in imitation of me, until she jumps down and runs away. 
Then very gently and wonderingly, they touch my bright 
buttons and lace collar, evidently regarding them as some- 
thing very fine. My childish vanity is awakened, by 
finding myself the centre of so much deferential and 
admiring regard. I hasten to the parlour to tell my mother 
of it. Her only comment is "Poor things!" I do not 
know why she should pity them. But that I am to find 
out later. 

At an inn, where we stop to rest one morning, my mother 
observes a woman, blind and decrepit with age, turning 
the ponderous wheel of a machine on the lawn. Going 
out to speak with her, she says: 

" Is not that very hard work? " 



A Carriage Journey 15 

"Why, yes, mistress; but I must do something and this 
is all I can do now, I am so old." 

" How old are you? " 

"I don't know; past sixty they tell me." 

"Have you a husband?" 

"I don't know, mistress." 

"Have you ever had a husband?" 

"Yes, I was married." 

"Where is he now?" 

"I don't know, mistress, he was sold." 

"Have you children?" 

"I don't know, mistress; I had children, but they were 
sold." 

"How many?" 

"Six." 

"Have you never heard from any of them since they 
were sold?" 

"No, mistress." 

"Do you not find it hard to bear up under such afflic- 
tions?" 

"Why, yes, mistress; but God does what He thinks 
best for us." 

A still sadder sight is presented at a country tavern on 
the way, where the carriage arrives just at sunset. A 
cloud of dust is seen, coming slowly down the road, from 
which proceeds a confused noise of moaning, weeping, and 
shouting. On reaching the gate of the stable yard, it 
discloses itself. Ten naked little boys, between six and 
twelve years old, tied together, two and two, by their 
wrists, are all fastened to a long rope, and followed by a 
tall, gaunt, white man, who, with his long lash, whips up 
the sad and weary little procession, drives them to a horse 
trough to drink, and thence to a shed, where they lie 
down on the ground, and sob and moan themselves to 
sleep. 



i6 A Carriage Journey 

These, we are told, are children gathered up at different 
plantations by the "trader," and are to be driven down to 
Richmond, to be sold at auction and taken South, 

We push on southwards, winding up and down the 
mountain roads in the bright sunshine. But I intuitively 
feel, as children do, that somehow we are not so merry 
and cheerful a party as when we first set out. William 
sits by my side sober and silent. My father and mother 
converse in low tones, on the back seat. 

When at night they mention their plans, I am rather 
sorry to hear that we are not going to Richmond, as 
everybody seems to expect, but glad to know that we are 
to see the two great natural wonders — Weyer's Cave and 
the Natural Bridge. 

Arriving one morning at the foot of a mountain we 
slowly climb up to "the Cave," which it seems is near the 
top instead of the bottom of the mountain. There are 
guides with tallow candles in tin sconces, to show it to 
visitors. William and I go with the others, far enough into 
the interior to see some of the glittering and fantastic 
stalactites and stalagmites, rising like curved pillars and 
lost to sight high up in the darkness. 

But a brief view of these satisfies our curiosity, and we 
are content to go outside and sit on a bench in the sun- 
shine, while awaiting the return of my father and mother 
who are exploring the farther recesses of the cavern. 
When they come out they tell of the marvels they have 
seen. I think I should like to have seen the things that 
look like statues and animals, but I am not desirous to 
go through "Washington's Chamber" and the thirty 
other realms of darkness. 

Now we pass through Staunton and Lexington, then 
over more rocky hills and mountain roads. Finally we 
come in sight of the Natural Bridge. Here we pause, for 
some hours, to wonder and admire. The great rocky arch 



First Visit to Washington 17 

looks as if it had been excavated by human hands, yet 
none have ever laboured at it. We drive across it in our 
carriage. We walk under it by the side of the creek which 
it spans, and at last we leave it reluctantly. 

And now we turn our faces northward. Lion and the 
Doctor trot off merrily, as if they knew they were going 
home. We do not return by the way we came, but strike 
by an easterly route, stopping to look at Jefferson's home 
at Monticello and Washington's at Mount Vernon. 

We end our Virginia pilgrimage at Alexandria at night- 
fall, and are to cross the Potomac in the morning to visit 
the national capital. 

1835. 

First Visit to Washington. On board the horse-boat 
in our carriage, we are transported across the Potomac 
from Virginia to Georgetown. Thence we drive at a 
leisurely pace down into Washington. 

Seen from this direction the city looks like a jumble 
of unfinished and unpaved streets. Here and there a 
brick building on a corner lot marks the intersection of 
some street and avenue. Between these brick buildings 
are long vacant spaces, with occasionally some old- 
fashioned village residence, having its shade trees, fences, 
and garden. 

Pennsylvania Avenue seems to be the only one that 
is compactly built up. It looks to me longer and broader 
than any that I have ever known. On the hill at one 
end stands the magnificent white Capitol ; at the other the 
President's mansion is surrounded by a grove of trees. 

We arrive at Gadsby's, which is said to be the best hotel, 
and one much patronized by members of Congress. 
Several gentlemen and some ladies call during the evening, 
and talk over the latest news and gossip of the government 
and the city. 



i8 First Visit to Washington 

Morning comes, and my mother tells me that Governor 
Dickerson, the Secretary of the Navy, is coming to take 
us up to see the President. I have heard (as who has not) 
of General Jackson, "the Hero of New Orleans," and I 
am quite ready to make his acquaintance. But when my 
mother brings out the little coat I am to wear, I demur 
to the colour of it. "If I wear a red coat, won't General 
Jackson take me for a Britisher?" However, this ob- 
jection is overruled. 

In due time Mr. Secretary Dickerson arrives in a car- 
riage, and we are whirled over the macadamized avenue 
to the Executive Mansion. 

We ascend the stairs and are ushered into the President's 
room, where he sits at a writing table with a great pile 
of commissions before him, to which he is appending his 
signature. He is tall and thin, with iron grey hair brushed 
stiffly back from his forehead, and is dressed in a black 
suit. At first glance he reminds me of my grandfather 
Seward. He rises and greets us with stately courtesy, 
invites us to be seated, and takes me on his knee. 

The conversation opens with polite inquiries about our 
travels and my mother's health. Then it turns to govern- 
mental topics, which I do not understand; and I amuse 
myself by looking round the room. It is a library, for 
there are bookshelves on each side. But its most notice- 
able feature is that there are so many portraits and busts of 
General Jackson himself all around. They are all differ- 
ent, yet each is an unmistakable likeness. 

When the talk reverts to our journey again, and our 
visit to Monticello, he seems much interested. Presently 
I observe that his voice is growing louder and his face 
getting redder and the arm round me is quivering with 
ej^citement. Evidently he is getting angry with some- 
body, but who? I am relieved to find that it is not with 
any of us, but somebody whom he calls "the Senate," 



•' Colonel John " 19 

and speaks of with scorn. It seems there is some ques- 
tion about a statue, but the merits of the case are beyond 
my comprehension; and when Mr. Dickerson essays a 
word in behalf of the offending body, he is summarily 
silenced by the remark, "That is no argument, sir." 

But he soon calms down, and the conversation goes on 
smoothly again. He is emphatic though not irritable 
when he tells my father that "a frank and vigorous policy 
is the best, in dealing with foreign nations, as with men." 
When the interview is closing, he again rises and bids us 
"good-bye," with the same stately courtesy as when he 
received us. 

As we drive away down the avenue, I keep thinking of 
the General and his pictures and busts. Only two por- 
traits of Presidents are within my remembrance, those 
of Washington and Jefferson. Mentally comparing these 
I decide that all Presidents are tall, grey-haired, and stern 
looking and always dressed in black. By the time I have 
reached thi^ sage conclusion, we are at the door of Gadsby's. 
And so ends my first visit to the White House. 

1835- 
" Colonel John." In my visits to my grandfather's 
home in Orange County, I found there were some old re- 
sidents still living, who remembered my great-grandfather, 
Colonel John Seward, of Revolutionary memory. They 
had stories or traditions to tell about him. 

He lived in New Jersey, and was one of the earliest to 
take part in the struggle for independence. In command 
of a company, he fought under Washington, at the battle 
of Long Island, shared in the experiences of the subsequent 
retreat, and afterwards was in the battle at White Plains. 
The next year he was engaged in the battle at Princetop, 
and in 1778 in the battle of Monmouth. In 1779, he had 
been promoted to the colonelcy of a New Jersey militia 



20 " Colonel John '* 

regiment, and with a part ol it joined in the pursuit of 
Brant with his Tories and Indians, after the bloody mas- 
sacre at Minisink. 

The Tories in his neighbourhood heartily hated and 
feared him; and a reward of twenty pounds was offered 
for his capture "dead or alive." 

His home in Sussex County was an occasional stopping 
place for Washington, in his frequent journeys between 
the New York and New Jersey encampments. "Sew- 
ard's Home" is noted on one of the campaign maps in 
Irving's Life oj Washington. 

One story illustrative of his energetic character was in 
regard to an attempt to decoy him into an ambuscade. 
Colonel Seward was sitting on his front porch, toward 
evening, when an ill-looking fellow, mounted on a cadav- 
erous horse, which he guided with a rope halter, rode up, 
and delivered to him what purported to be "a message 
from General Washington." Colonel Seward, suspecting 
some treacherous design, after questioning the messenger, 
said sharply: "General Washington never sent you on 
such a horse as that, with a message to me." Turning 
round, he took down his rifle, which hung over the door- 
way. The spy, seeing himself discovered, started quickly 
to escape, whipping up his beast, in order to warn his 
confederates. But before he had reached the gateway, 
a bullet from the Colonel's rifle brought him down. 

Another tale was that, in one of the Jersey battles, the 
colonel captured, with his own hand, a Hessian soldier, 
and brought his prisoner home with him. The soldier, 
being a sensible German peasant, thought life on a gentle- 
man's country place much preferable to service under 
the Prince of Hesse-Cassel, who had sold him, and King 
George, who had bought him, as "food for powder." So 
he proposed to remain with his captor, and proved to be 
a faithful and capable servant, for many years. His 



The Panic of 1837 — Shinplasters 21 

name was not remembered, but he was popularly known 
in the neighbourhood as "Colonel John's Hessian." 

1837. 

The Panic of 1837— Shinplasters. My first lesson in 
finance came in 1837. Like other boys, I had my Uttle 
"money-box" as my savings-bank, into which to put an 
occasional big copper cent or a battered Spanish sixpence. 

Then one summer came "Hard Times," when sixpences 
and shillings and even pennies suddenly disappeared 
from general use. Some people said that President Van 
Buren was to blame for it. Others laid the blame on 
Congress and the banks. Of the crash of corporations, 
the suspension of payments, and the wreck of merchants, 
I was happily ignorant. I only knew that nobody had 
any "change" and nobody could tell me why or where- 
fore. Or, if they could, the reasons were beyond my 
comprehension. 

But presently there began to appear in use little square 
tickets of paper, like those of the circus or the baker and 
milkman. On these was printed, "Good for 5 cents," or 
"Good for sixpence," or "Good for i shilling," and they 
bore the name of some merchant or tavern-keeper. These 
I was told were "shinplasters." They seemed to pass 
from hand to hand as easily as any other money. But 
when I got one and proposed to put it in my "money- 
box," I was told it would not do for that, as it might prove 
worthless any day. The only thing to do was to get rid 
of it as speedily as possible, — which was always easy at the 
candy store and toy shop. 

Then later I was told that some of the men who issued 
them were "calling them in" and burning up whole hand- 
fuls of them, which seemed a great waste of good money. 

When silver and copper began to appear again, I in- 
quired why those paper things were called "shinplasters." 



22 " Henry Clay at Auburn " 

No one seemed to know until I asked my grandfather, 
who laughed and said he supposed it was because people 
hated them as much as they did the shinplasters they 
used to have when he was a boy. But what were they? 
So he went on to tell me. 

In the days when he was young, every gentleman wore 
knee breeches and long silk stockings on his legs. When 
he went out to ride on horseback or to walk through mud 
and snow, he put on long riding boots over them. On 
coming in chilled and cold, he pulled off the boots and sat 
down in front of the open fire, where everybody drew up 
their chairs to get warm. Of course the knees were the 
parts nearest the blaze. These frequent and sudden 
changes from cold to heat and heat to cold made the 
shin tender, and "sore shins" were a prevalent winter 
complaint. Various salves, ointments, and plasters were 
prescribed for their cure. 

Said he: "I never was so glad of any change of fashion 
as I was when pantaloons came in. The three-cornered 
hats and ruffled shirts and buckled shoes were well enough, 
but I hated the knee breeches as much as I did the pigtails 
tied with eelskin. People said the fashion would change 
again, and go back to the short breeches, but I do not 
believe it ever will, in this country, whatever the British 
and French may do." 

1839. 
" Henry Clay at Auburn." "Henry Clay is coming to 
Auburn. He is to stop over night at Governor Seward's." 
This is the joyful news. The great Kentucky statesman 
is making a "tour" through several States this summer, 
and at Cayuga Bridge a delegation from Auburn on horse- 
back and in carriages meet him and escort him to town. 
All the Whig boys and most of the Whig men are on the 
qui vive to welcome him. 



" Henry Clay at Auburn " 23 

He arrives in the afternoon, in a barouche and a cloud 
of dust. He is received and welcomed at the hotel with 
flags, music, cheering, speeches, and much handshaking. 
His tall form and commanding air, his winning smile and 
resonant voice rouse the public enthusiasm. After the 
public reception, he comes over to spend the night at 
our house. All the evening the parlor is thronged with 
ladies who are captivated by his courtly manner, and 
men who eagerly drink in his words of political wisdom. 
This is still going on when I am sent up to bed. 

Early in the morning I am up and out to play in the 
dooryard. In the woodshed I find a young and very 
well-dressed coloured man, who is polishing a pair of 
boots. I venture to ask him if he is "Charles." "Yes, 
I'se Charles, sure enough. And what may your name be? " 

I tell him, and then ask him if he has been long with 
Mr. Clay. 

"Ever sence I was born," he says. "And I 'spect I'm 
going to stay with him, too. Some of them fool fellers 
down to Boston tried to get me to leave him, and come 
there to live. But I said to 'em, 'No, sir,' says I, 'I'm 
going to stick to Mas'r Clay, and going back with him to 
Ole Kaintuck. Henry Clay and Ole Kaintuck are good 
enough for me any day.'" 

Then, contemplating the boots, he continues: "My 
ole man he wakes me up right early and tells me to get 
these boots. Now, I'm going to wake him up right early 
and tell him to get up and get his breakfast." 

So, with a laugh and a flourish, he departs to the house, 
leaving me to ponder over the new phase of the Abolition 
question, which his words have presented to my mind. 

1839. 
The Govemor*s Mansion. "Kane's Walk," on West- 
erlo Street in Albany, was a fine old residence, which 



24 The Governor's Mansion 

had been occupied in former years by Governors Clinton, 
Tompkins, and Yates. It was now selected as my father's 
"Executive Mansion." It stood at some distance back 
from the roadway, and was a spacious two-storied brick 
edifice, painted in the Colonial style, yellow with white 
blinds. The grounds were large, but had been shorn of 
some of their former grandeur. A street had been cut 
through what was originally the lawn in front of the house, 
and the remains of the old avenue extending from South 
Pearl Street were visible. But there were still two or 
three acres of land and a grove of trees surrounding the 
house, with ample space for stable, carriage house, and 
outbuildings, and on the south side was the formal garden, 
whose beds and walks were now overgrown with grass. 

A broad hall extended through the middle of the house 
from the front door to the rear one. This was carpeted 
and furnished as a sitting-room, and was well adapted 
for the reception of deputations, committees, and casual 
visitors. On one side of it were two parlors connected 
by folding doors and opening into a great dining-room, 
fifty feet long, which was also used as a ballroom. On 
the other side were three or four family rooms, and there 
were half a dozen more above. 

In the wing nearest to Westerlo Street was the library 
or office, which the Governor could use as a study, or for 
the reception of confidential visitors, as it had a separate 
entrance. A room for his private secretary adjoined it. 

Below, a spacious basement contained two kitchens, 
several servants' rooms, and cellars. Here were the 
coloured servitors, old and young — some of whom had 
traditions of the days when they lived with Governor 
Clinton or Governor Tompkins. In fact the house 
seemed especially well adapted to its uses. There was 
plenty of light and air. Heat was supplied by Nott-stoves 
and grate fires, to bum Liverpool coal — anthracite was 



The Governor's Mansion 25 

still scarce — and there were wood stoves in the family 
rooms. Furnaces and heaters for household use were 
not yet in vogue. 

Light for evening entertainments was supplied by 
sperm candles, in chandeliers, mantel and table can- 
delabra, brackets and silver gilt candlesticks — making the 
rooms brilliant but entailing much care. As the guests 
of the first evening party were taking their leave, the 
stately head-waiter, William, presented himself with a 
bow, to say: "Governor, shall we begin to blow?" — and 
receiving permission commenced extinguishing the candles. 

The grounds gave ample space for children to play, and 
our neighbours and friends joined us there for ball games, 
marbles, and "follow my leader" in the summer, and for 
snow forts and sliding downhill in winter. In these 
sports we had as companions various dogs and, at one 
time, "Jenny," a tame fawn. 

It was the fashion for the Governor to entertain gener- 
ously. On New Year's Day he was expected to keep 
open house for all comers. Through the winter there 
were numerous dinners and evening parties with dancing. 
The usual dinner hour in Albany then was two o'clock, 
but on state occasions it was put off till four or five. 
Evening parties began promptly at eight, and were usu- 
ally over at or soon after midnight. 

The old Albany families, the State officers and members 
of the Legislature, especially the Whig ones, met on these 
occasions, and distinguished visitors to the city were also 
guests. In their long procession during four years came 
Washington Irving, Daniel Webster, General Scott, Josiah 
Quincy, Ambrose Spencer, John Davis, John J. Crittenden, 
Hugh S. Legare, Francis Granger, Dr. Eliphalet Nott, 
Lewis Gaylord Clark, Sir Charles Bagot, Lord Morpeth, 
and others of well-known memory. 

John C. Spencer, the Secretary of State, and Rufus 



26 The Governor's Mansion 

King, the Adjutant-General, were frequent callers to 
discuss questions of administration. Three or four pro- 
minent New York Whigs, Richard M. Blatchford, James 
Bowen, Simeon Draper, and Moses H. Grinnell, with 
Thurlow Weed and Lewis Benedict of Albany, were said 
by the New York Herald to constitute the "Governor's 
Clique," since they were in such frequent consultation 
with him. 

Delegations from charitable, religious, and scientific 
societies occasionally appeared, to urge the Governor to 
take official action, or make recommendations to the 
Legislature, in their behalf. But to me those of especial 
interest were the young pupils of the blind or deaf and 
dumb asylums, who, having exhibited their proficiency 
to the legislative committees, came to spend the evening 
at the Governor's and invoke his help. 

The office or library with its separate entrance was 
used by the Governor in the morning to dispose of his 
correspondence. That finished, he would go up to the 
Capitol and spend several hours in the Executive Cham- 
ber in receiving visitors and attending to official work. 
When some important state paper or message was to be 
prepared, he would go to work on it in the "office" with 
the help of his private secretary, and often protract the 
labour all the evening and far into the night. Samuel 
Blatchford was his first private secretary, and afterward 
Henry Underwood. 

As the office was lighted and warmed even when not 
occupied, I found it a quiet and comfortable place to read 
or study my lessons. On the bookshelves were Irving, 
Shakespeare, and Charles Lamb, and once a month came 
Oliver Twist or Nicholas Nickleby or Ainsworth's lurid 
Tower of London, while the New Yorker and the Mirror 
came every week, so there was no lack of good reading. 
In my corner, I listened sometimes to the discussions over 



The Governor's Mansion 2^ 

the state papers, and though rather difficult as political 
problems, I found them more interesting than the Greek 
grammar or Daboll's Arithmetic. Thus I acquired a 
smattering of knowledge and an opinion as to the merits 
of the Virginia Controversy, the Georgia Controversy, 
the Canal Debt, the School System, the Registry Law, 
the McLeod Case and the "Helderberg War," and other 
topics supposed to be beyond my years. 

But in 1840 came a whole box full of interesting reading. 
The Legislature had made an appropriation for School 
District libraries, and Harper & Brothers had prepared 
a library of fifty or a hundred duodecimo volumes, ar- 
ranged in a neat little pine case. A sample set was sent 
up to the Governor for his inspection, history, travels, 
and fiction in such attractive form became immediately 
popular. Thurlow Weed borrowed the Lije of Franklin, 
the Adjutant-General the concise story of Napoleon's 
campaigns. Gulian C. Verplanck found amusement in a 
little volume on Chinese manners and customs, and when 
he came to dinner, greeted us with "chin-chin" and 
announced that he had come to "eat rice under the light 
of our countenance." For my own part I was deep the 
first day in Dana's Two Years before the Mast. 

There was other fascinating literature in the proof 
sheets, sent for the Governor's inspection, of the successive 
volumes of the Natural History of New York. The Geo- 
logical Survey begun during Governor Marcy's term had 
now expanded into the great quarto volumes dealing 
with Ornithology, Zoology, Ichthyology, and Crustacea, 
illustrated by engravings in the best style of art. Those 
volumes to this day are invaluable works of reference in 
scientific libraries. Occasionally the professors in charge 
of the respective portions of the work would call to explain 
matters to the Governor, who was to write an introduction 
to the whole series. 



28 The Governor's Mansion 

The fine arts also found a foothold in the office. 
When a sculptor or painter desired to get a likeness of 
the Governor, he was invited to set up his easel or his clay 
in the office, where he could study the Governor's features 
and expression. As there was no time for sittings, this 
had to be done while he was at work. Here Frankenstein 
made his bust and Carlin his portrait. 

Most marvellous of all were some curious pictures 
brought by Gavit, the engraver, one day to show to the 
Governor. They were about six inches square, taken 
on metallic plates, resembling engravings, except that 
the polished plate reflected objects like a looking-glass. 
It was necessary to hold them at an angle, in order to 
see what the subject was. On one was an accurate though 
faint representation of State Street and the Capitol; on 
another a view of the Museum on the corner of North 
Market Street. But objects were reversed and the signs 
read backward. These, we were told, were the results of a 
new process devised by a Frenchman named Daguerre, and 
were the imprint of light itself through a camera. Various 
comments were made on the new scientific discovery. 
Some saw in it the beginning of a revolution in art, but 
others insisted that it was all a fraud; that it was simply 
the transfer of engravings to the plates ; and that even if it 
was the effect of light, the invention would never amount to 
anything because it would be transient. They observed, 
"You can't see much of anything in them now, except your 
own face." These prophets were fortified in their opinion 
when, a few weeks later, the pictures grew indistinct and 
seemed fading out entirely. 

1839-40. 

New Year's Day in Albany. Albany still observed 
New Year's Day in accordance with old Dutch traditions 
and customs. It was the favorite day for gifts and 
greetings, public and private hospitality. 



New Year's Day in Albany 29 

Every gentleman was expected to call on that day upon 
the families with whom he was socially intimate. This 
had been easy enough when the town was small, but it was 
getting to be rather an arduous task when one's acquaint- 
ance had grown larger. Some still made their peregrina- 
tions on foot ; others found it desirable to use sleighs and 
cutters. Frequently four or five would club together to 
so make their rounds. At every house they would find 
the ladies in their parlor, arrayed to receive them, and 
usually a table of refreshments awaiting them in the 
dining-room. When there were sixty or eighty calls 
to be made, they were necessarily short, and often would 
be only the exchange of greetings and good wishes, with 
little or no time to sit down and converse, or to accept 
the hospitable invitation to the table. Every guest was 
expected to take a New Year's cake, sweetened and spiced 
with caraway seeds and stamped with ornamental figures 
or inscriptions. Of course he could not eat them all, and 
so he frequently put them into a basket or bag in his 
sleigh, to be sent up later in the day to the Orphan Asylum 
or other benevolent institution. Those young men who 
incautiously accepted too many of the hospitable glasses 
of wine or punch were occasionally incapacitated for 
continuing their round of calls long before the day was 
over. 

The Governor was expected on New Year's Day to keep 
"open house" for all comers. The carpets were taken 
up and the furniture removed from the great hall and 
the adjoining rooms. Long tables were set out with 
refreshments. Seven barrels of New Year's cakes were 
placed so that every caller might take one. The boys 
of the family had the pleasure of handing them out of the 
window to such of the throng as could not get in. 

The day began with a serenade at midnight by "Johnny 
Cook's band," and the stream of callers continued all day, 



30 A Political Caricature 

varied occasionally by the advent of a military organiza- 
tion. 

Albany was still small enough and decorous enough to 
do without any uniformed police force. One constable 
with two assistants were deemed sufficient to maintain 
order about the mansion. 

1839-40. 

A Political Caricature. There is still extant a political 
caricature of this period, showing both wit and artistic 
skill. Its humorous points were so well taken that 
friends and foes had to join in the merriment it created. 
It was a lithograph purporting to represent a drill of the 
new Whig State officers in the vacant square in front of 
the Governor's residence. It presented Thurlow Weed 
as drummer, striding in advance, cigar in mouth, and 
vigorously beating a tune, to which the others were trying 
to keep step. Behind him came the diminutive Governor, 
also smoking, vainly trying to follow the footsteps of the 
long-legged drummer and unconsciously imitating the 
movements of his hands. The Adjutant-General fol- 
lowed, arrayed in most gorgeous and bewildering regi- 
mentals. Then came the Secretary of State and Comp- 
troller, the former of whom evidently would not, while 
the latter could not, keep step. The Treasurer had fallen 
out of line, and, with a determined air, sat down on his 
strong box to protect it; while the Attorney-General, 
sitting under a tree, was diligently conning his first lesson 
in Blackstone's Commentaries. 

Of this lithograph. Weed wrote to the Governor: "I 
send you a picture. The shop at which I found it was 
the scene of capital fun. The salesman proposed to fur- 
nish a key. 'This,' said he, 'is the Attorney-General. 
This fellow is Weed, who was a drummer in the last war, 
and an excellent likeness.' By this time a third person 



A Political Caricature 31 

who was standing by very quietly inquired whether I 
considered it a Hkeness. The man stared and the others 
laughed. I stipulated for a reasonable abatement of 
nose, and agreed that the thing was admirable. They 
have got that jockey great coat that Lee made you. But 
the Adjutant looks magnificently. The figure intended 
for Haight is a striking likeness of HoUey. I found the 
'Premier' in good humour and presented him a copy. 
He talked it all over with Dr. Nott." 

Years afterward, the story of the origin of this carica- 
ture was told. One evening at the house of ex-Comptrol- 
ler Flagg, the popular young artist Freeman was making 
a call. The family circle were laughing over a burlesque 
article in the Argus, purporting to describe a "drill of 
the State Officers." As Freeman sat listening, he took 
out his pencil and commenced sketching on a sheet of 
paper the scene described. While thus engaged ex- 
Governor Marcy came in, looked over his shoulder, and 
recognizing the likenesses, said sharply and indignantly: 

"That's libellous, sir. Do you know, sir, that the man 
who makes such a picture can be prosecuted for libel?" 

"Yes," said Freeman, looking up — "Yes, and what 
shall be done with the scoundrel who wrote the article?" 

The general laugh that greeted this reply, showed 
Governor Marcy that he was known to be the author. 
Freeman's sketch was pronounced so good that next day 
it was taken to be lithographed. 

1839-40. 
The Pearl Street Academy. It was decided that I 
should go to school in Albany during the winter, and the 
Pearl Street Academy was the one selected. This was 
in the northern portion of the street, near Patroon Street, 
and facing the square. Mr. L. Sprague Parsons was the 
principal. 



32 The Pearl Street Academy 

This required a pretty long walk daily, but my parents 
believed the walk would be beneficial to my health, and 
I was of an age when any amount of time spent in the 
streets seemed preferable to the same time spent in the 
confinement of a schoolroom. 

The Academy had rather an imposing classic front 
with a portico of large Doric columns. The schoolroom 
extended across the whole width of the building on the 
second floor, and there were smaller rooms for classes 
and recitations. 

On presenting myself as a pupil, I was assigned to a 
desk bearing the familiar ink stains and carved initials 
of previous occupants. As each boy had a separate desk, 
it was certainly more convenient and comfortable than 
any I had had in my previous school experiences, but it 
had the drawback in boys' eyes that it made whispering 
difficult and surreptitious mischief almost impossible. 

The boys occupying desks on each side of mine I was 
introduced to as Chapman and Williams. The roll-call 
of the school was by surnames only, so we fell naturally 
into the habit of calling each other by them instead of 
nicknames. I made the acquaintance of several boys as 
Lansing, Dix, March, Boyd, Lush, Stafford, and Vanderlip, 
and only accidentally learned afterwards what their other 
names were. 

Some of my schoolmates were dull and heavy, but for 
the most part they seemed to me to be fine, clever, and 
good natured. There was an unwritten law amongst 
them that the bigger boys were not to tease the little 
fellows. This met my unqualified approval, as I was 
one of the little fellows myself. 

I was set to work on ^sop's fables, though I thought 
the Latin version much more curt and involved, and 
therefore much less interesting than the English one I 
had at home. I also grappled with the Greek alphabet 



The Pearl Street Academy 33 

with a view to further struggles with the Testament at 
a later day. But the arithmetic, the "doing sums" on a 
slate, where they seemed to have a proclivity for "coming 
out wrong," — that was the rub! I found my school- 
mates shared my own opinions that Addition and Sub- 
traction were useful arts, and we all had more or less 
acquaintance with the Multiplication table, and even 
Long Division had i^ uses. But "Vulgar Fractions" 
and "Reduction" of pounds, shillings, and pence into 
Federal money, these we felt sure we should never want 
to use when we were "grown up." Probably we would 
have had the same opinion in regard to "Extraction of 
the Cube Root," but none of us had got so far as that yet. 

When my daily lessons had been learned and recited, 
either well or badly, I used to look out through a window 
which commanded a view of the two-steepled Dutch 
Church and the town clock thereon. The hands moved 
so slowly that I often wondered whether the clock had 
stopped. However, it did get at last to twelve o'clock, 
when we had a recess for lunch, and then finally to two 
o'clock, when we were dismissed for the day. 

Mr. Parsons introduced some variations into the usual 
weekly afternoon for "declamation and compositions." 
Sometimes we were allowed to take part in dialogues on 
the stage. Sometimes the school was resolved into a de- 
bating society. Two of the older boys would lead on the 
"Affirmative" and "Negative" sides, and they chose 
their followers alternately, as in a ball game. A tall, 
serious-faced boy, who I was told was Morgan Dix, usually 
led on one side, and a smiling young giant named McElroy 
led on the other. The little fellows were not allowed to 
participate in the debate, but we had our opportunity 
at the end, when the vote was taken and we could shout 
"Aye" and "No" with the loudest. Occasionally the 
school became the scene of a spelling contest, the words 



34 Early Railroad Experiences 

being given out, not from the spelling book, but from Web- 
ster's Dictionary. As there were seventy or eighty of us, 
each one's turn came but seldom, and each hoped he would 
get an easy one. 

The old Academy lasted during two winters of my stay 
in Albany, and then it came down to give place to more 
modem structures. 

I 
1840. 

Early Railroad Experiences. On arriving at Schenec- 
tady from the west, after a tedious stage-coach journey, 
the traveller would find there the cars of the "Mohawk 
and Hudson Railroad," the first link in the great chain 
that was ultimately to stretch across the State. 

The cars were of the English pattern, short and divided 
into three compartments, each having two transverse 
seats for passengers. A narrow "running board" ex- 
tended along the outside on which the conductor made 
his rounds to gather fares through the windows. The 
baggage was piled on top of the car. 

One or two horses then drew the car for half a mile or 
more to the foot of a hill. Here was an inclined plane, 
up which the car was drawn by a heavy cable running 
over wheels, and worked by a stationary engine at the 
summit. Reaching the plateau, thickly covered with 
pine woods, the cars were next attached to one of two 
locomotives, named respectively the "John Bull" and 
"Brother Jonathan." Fifteen miles more of the journey 
were thus accomplished. Then the level ground ended, 
and the descent into the valley of the Hudson began, 
horses again taking the place of the locomotive. So the 
car reached State Street in Albany, and there entered 
the "car house" near the Capitol. 

This was well enough for passengers going to places 
"on the hill," but not for passengers and freight going 



Early Railroad Experiences 35 

down to the lower town and the steamboat landing. So 
the railway company soon after estabUshed another in- 
clined plane running down by way of Lydius Street. 

The journey of sixteen miles was thus made more 
smoothly but not much more quickly than by the Turn- 
pike, on account of the changes and delays. In fact, at 
Schenectady stages were in waiting by the side of the 
train, whose drivers shouted, "Take you to Albany 
quicker than the cars, for fifty cents. Right to the door 
of your hotel." Many chose that alternative. 

The railway next constructed was that from Utica to 
Schenectady, where the track could follow an almost level 
grade along the banks of the Mohawk. This greatly 
shortened the journey. 

Auburn and Syracuse, which were then two villages, 
each having about five thousand inhabitants, next deter- 
mined that they would have railway connection. After 
some little delay in obtaining the charter, the funds, and 
the right of way, the road was completed. Desirous of 
getting it into operation as speedily as possible, the com- 
pany laid down wooden rails to serve till the iron ones 
should arrive. 

My father's family were invited to one of the early 
trial trips. Mr. Sherwood, the stage proprietor, and his 
family occupied the adjoining compartment in the one 
passenger car. Another was improvised by putting the 
body of one of Sherwood's stages on a platform car. Thus 
equipped, and drawn by horses, we made the journey to 
Syracuse in what seemed the marvellously short time of 
two hours and a half. 

A few months later more cars were obtained, and two 
locomotives, the "Auburn" and the "Syracuse," which 
were objects of admiration and curiosity all along the 
line. The locomotive whistle was a novelty, and the 
boys were of the opinion that the engineer must have 



36 Early Theatrical Memories 

very strong lungs to be able to blow it so loudly. To ride 
with him was a delightfully dangerous privilege granted 
to only a favoured few. 

Some travellers still preferred to go by the packet 
boats of the Erie Canal. The journey required no changes 
and was smooth and safe, except for the risk of having 
one's head knocked by a "low bridge." The speed was 
about the same as that of the stage-coach, the three horses 
being kept on a brisk trot — though the locks caused some 
delay. 

The long and narrow shape of the canal boat made it 
necessary to serve the meals on very narrow tables. The 
sleeping arrangements were unique. At nine o'clock in 
the evening the captain would take his stand at the door 
of the cabin with a list of the passengers in his hand. He 
would then call out: "Mr. Jones." Thereupon Mr. 
Jones would meekly rise and proceed to the cabin and go 
to bed. Next "Mr. Brown" would be called and comply 
in like manner. The berths were like shelves with no 
adequate passageway between, and the passengers would 
have to rise in the morning in the same order as they re- 
tired. The last one to go down would be the first to get 
up — so as to make room for the others to get out. 

1840-41. 
Early Theatrical Memories. Everybody, I suppose, 
remembers his first visits to the theatre. Mine began 
at Buffalo, where, with my parents, I witnessed Tom 
Cringle's Log, a melodrama based upon a novel of that 
day. The gay audience and brilliant lights, the enliven- 
ing music, the rapidly moving scenes of the story, and the 
reality of the dialogue on the stage were all-absorbing, and 
the illusion was so perfect that I needed to be reassured, 
between the acts, that the house which was struck by 
lightning did not really burn down, and that the wrecked 



Early Theatrical Memories 37 

sailors did not really drown, nor the pirates actually 
get killed, though I fully believed they ought to be. 

Afterwards, at Auburn, I occasionally saw the moral 
or temperance drama at the Town Hall, and once a 
company of strolling players gave Macbeth and Julius 
CcBsar. They had not enough "supers" for the required 
armies, so the manager came over to the Academy play- 
ground, to ask if some of the taller boys would not come, 
and march in battle array armed with shields and hel- 
mets? Of course they would, and were delighted to do 
so. Those of us who were too small for Thespian honours 
envied Roscoe Conkling and burly Spencer and Pasco, 
whose stature gave them not only free entrance, but 
actual participation in the performance. 

But it was at Albany that I now saw the drama in its 
glory. All the boys and girls in town eagerly watched 
the great red double tent, going up at the corner of Dallius 
and Westerlo streets. It was a circus enterprise, on a 
large scale, exciting an interest like that of Bamum in 
later years. It was so successful that in another year, 
Nichols, the proprietor, replaced it by a brick amphi- 
theatre on the same ground. This contained both stage 
and ring. Usually equestrian and acrobatic feats in the 
ring were followed by a farce or melodrama on the stage. 

Here Spartacus thundered through the voice of Forrest, 
and Richelieu called down the appalling "Cur-r-rse of 
Rome." 

Occasionally there would be a spectacle in which stage 
and ring were used together. Then the wild horse would 
not only climb the canvas rocks and drink from the painted 
stream on the stage, but presently would be careering 
round the sawdust circle with Mazeppa lashed on his back. 

When St. George and the Dragon was first performed 
the beautiful maiden was left tied to the stake on the 
stage, while the two combatants came down into the ring 



38 Applicants for Pardons 

to have it out, under the eyes of the audience. Unfor- 
tunately the first charge of the Saint was so fierce that it 
upset the Dragon, who lay helpless and kicking. Evi- 
dently the boy who performed his insides could not get 
him up, and the "terrific combat" had not yet come off. 
Saint George was equal to the emergency. Dismounting 
he ran to the prostrate monster, kindly lifted and set 
him on his legs again, and then remounting his patient 
steed, fought the combat out to a finish, amid the applause 
of an admiring audience. 

One of the "properties" at the amphitheatre was a 
tame fawn, which Mr. Nichols afterward presented to the 
Governor. She became a favourite playmate for the 
boys who named her "Jenny." She was always ready 
for a romp or a race with us, in the grounds. After a 
couple of years, however, she grew so tall and strong that 
gates and fences could no longer keep her in, when she 
chose to make one of her flying leaps. 

One day when the table was set in the dining-room for a 
state dinner, Jenny saw through the open window a fine 
bunch of flowers on the centrepiece. With a long leap 
she seized the flowers, but at the same time brought down 
the tablecloth, glass, and dishes in a grand crash, and then 
stood amid the debris, placidly wondering at the com- 
motion she had caused. So she had to retire from the 
Executive Mansion to private life in the North Woods. 

Applicants for Pardons. There is a "black care" that 
rides on the shoulders of every governor — that follows 
him by day, haunts him by night, and will not be shaken 
off. This is the "pardoning power." 

There are always a thousand poor wretches in prison, 
or on their way there, and hardly one of them but has a 
wife or child or friend to implore executive clemency. 

Public opinion, which is an avenging Nemesis as long 



Applicants for Pardons 39 

as the culprit is at large, softens as soon as he is behind 
bolts and bars; and not unfrequently the turnkey who 
locks him in, the public prosecutor who arraigned him, 
the jurors who convicted, and even the judge who sen- 
tenced him, join in the appeal for his release. 

Yet if the governor weakly yields to the pressure, the 
same instinct of self-preservation in the community which 
sent the criminal to jail is aroused with fresh indignation 
at seeing him at liberty in the streets. 

But the suitors for mercy will take no denial. How 
can they? Then pleading letters come in every mail; 
their piteous faces are ever round the door of the executive 
chamber. They watch the governor's path; they wait in 
his hall; they sit on his doorstep, and try to gain the 
sympathy of his family. If he be of a kindly compassion- 
ate nature, disposed to listen to their "oft-told tale "of 
misery, he will have time neither to eat nor sleep, nor 
write messages, nor make appointments. The applicants 
and their applications are often unreasonable, grotesque, 
and absurd, yet always sad and always painful. 

One of my father's early experiences of this sort was 
shortly after his inauguration. A well-dressed, ladylike 
woman, evidently in deep grief, was imploring the pardon 
of her brute of a husband, sent to prison for beating her. 
She stayed during the whole evening, exhausting her powers 
of argument and entreaty, and deaf to any answer but a 
favorable one. Growing excited and frantic over the 
ill-success of her plea, she threw herself on her knees, 
and with sobs and hysterics, refused to get up until her 
prayer should be granted. The Governor, while vainly 
endeavouring to calm her, was startled at seeing in the 
open doorway the sudden apparition of York Van Allen, 
his coloured waiter, arrayed in overcoat and cap, with a 
lantern in his hand. 

"What do you want, York?" 



40 Applicants for Pardons 

"I beg pard'n, sir," replied York, with the dignified 
courtesy which distinguishes his race, "but I thought de 
time had arrived when you wanted me." 

"Want you? What for?" 

"Governor Clinton used to allers tell me I was to take 
'em away, when dey began to go on like dat," pointing 
to the kneeling female, "and Governor Tompkins too, 
sir, allers." 

Equally to the surprise and rehef of the Governor, the 
lady seemed, like York, to take it as a matter of course. 
Rising and adjusting her shawl and bonnet at the mirror, 
she curtsied adieu, and went off to the hotel, under the 
escort of York and his lantern. 

Yet there are many cases when the exercise of the 
pardoning power is not only judicious but is followed by 

beneficent results. Such a one was that of Catharine . 

Her pardon was accompanied by a kindly letter of advice 
from the Governor, to return to her country home, and, 
by persevering assiduity in domestic duties, try to regain 
the respect and confidence of her friends and neighbours. 
A few years later one of the benevolent friends who had 
aided her happened to be journeying through a remote 
rural region, when he unexpectedly met Catharine there 
— now grown an industrious, respectable woman, regarded 
with esteem by her neighbours. She took from her bosom 
the letter of the Governor, and said it had saved her from 
ruin, and that she had carried it about with her ever since 
it brought her the welcome news of her release. 

Both those who solicit pardons and those who grant them 
are apt to look at the case of the individual sufferer with- 
out bestowing much thought upon the interests of the 
community at large. Yet this is really of more extended 
consequence. 

A forger had been convicted in Dutchess County on 
evidence which left no doubt of the crime. But he was 



Applicants for Pardons 41 

a man of property, and his high standing in the community 
and the church had brought him the help of learned counsel 
and sympathizing neighbours, to whom the verdict of 
the jury was a surprise. So strong was the pressure of 
public opinion in his behalf, that the jury recommended 
him to the clemency of the Executive, and the court sus- 
pended sentence in order that the application might be 
made. 

The Governor denied it, saying, as in other cases, that 
he could not yield under the impulse of feeling, or from 
respect to popular sympathy; and that to set aside the 
judgment of the courts where there was no injustice or 
doubt of guilt, would be to destroy public confidence in 
the certainty of punishment and that salutary respect for 
courts of justice which secures the peace and good order 
of society. 

There was one case that had a ludicrous side in its 
unexpected ending. A Frenchman and his wife who had 
just emigrated to this country were accused of theft, 
locked up, tried, convicted of grand larceny, and sent, 
the woman to the prison for female convicts at Sing Sing, 
and the man to the prison at Auburn. 

On review of the evidence, it turned out that the offence, 
on the woman's part at least, had some palliating cir- 
cumstances, and that she had intended nothing worse 
than to make reprisals on neighbours who had plundered 
her. Ignorance of the language had prevented the case 
from being fully and fairly presented in court. 

The Governor made out a pardon for the woman, and 
taking it with him on one of his visits to Sing Sing, handed 
it to the warden, who forthwith released her, handed her 
the pardon, and she went on her way rejoicing. 

It happened that her name and her husband's (Frangoise 
and Frangois) differed only in a letter, and the engrossing 
clerk by mistake had written his for hers. When outside of 



42 The "Morus multicaulis " Fever 

the prison, she looked at the document which had been put 
in her hands, and found there her husband's name. Not 
doubting that he had been pardoned also, she hastened up 
to Auburn, and presented it to the warden of the prison 
there. It was in every respect correct, and so Frangois 
was released also — and the pair started for Canada. 

The mistake was discovered when the Governor next 
visited Auburn; but the worthy French couple never 
came back to have it rectified. 

1840. 

The " Moras multicaulis " Fever. A new form of 
agricultural enterprise suddenly arose in the spring of this 
year. It had been demonstrated by experiment that the 
Morus multicaulis would thrive in New York and other 
northern States, and so it was assumed that silkworms 
could easily and profitably be raised. 

Little capital was required. Families could easily in- 
crease their income. The owner of an acre of mulberry 
trees could at once embark in the enterprise, and his 
children could care for the worms in the intervals of their 
school hours. A newspaper spread over an old table and 
plentifully supplied with mulberry leaves was all that was 
necessary. The silkworms would not wander away from 
the table. Nothing more would be needed, except to 
gather the cocoons when the worms began to spin, as 
they would do in a very few weeks. 

I found that my schoolmates, as soon as the teacher 
dismissed us, hastened home, as I did, to climb fences and 
scale mulberry trees, in order to get the leaves to feed 
their new pets. 

As this disposition spread, it of course enhanced the 
price both of mulberry trees and of silkworms* eggs, so 
that those who had begun early were now reaping hand- 
some profits. 



The "Morus multicaulis " Fever 43 

In New Jersey and Long Island, we were told, raw silk 
had been raised, exported to Europe, and received there 
with commendation. In Pennsylvania, Ohio, and Mary- 
land farmers now began to engage largely in the business. 

At Auburn the cultivation received special attention. 
There had long been a jealousy of prison labour among 
mechanics and manufacturers, who found or fancied they 
would find themselves in competition with it. 

It was desirable to find some occupation for convicts, 
which would not compete with the trades, and yet would 
meet the prison expenses. It was now claimed that the 
manufacture of silk was such a one. When thus turned 
into a silk manufactory, the prison, instead of injuring 
the mechanics, would be benefiting them, and all the 
farmers of the surrounding country, by furnishing a 
steady market for all the cocoons they could raise. 

The experiment was tried. Mulberry trees were set 
out in the prison grounds. A silk shop was established 
with reels and "throwing-mills," spindles, and dyeing 
kettles. In and around Auburn hundreds of acres were 
planted with mulberry trees. Cocooneries were built or 
extemporized out of farm buildings and rooms of dwelling 
houses. 

The Legislature passed laws encouraging the cultiva- 
tion, by bounties on cocoons. Agricultural societies 
offered premiums. Newspapers and periodicals teemed 
with advice about hatching and feeding silkworms, and 
calculations showing how easily one hundred bushels of 
cocoons per annum could be produced by every owner of 
an acre. 

As a further illustration of the ease with which silk 
might be made in Central New York, a lady appeared in 
Ontario County, dressed in silk which had passed in all 
its changes from the leaf to the loom through her own 
hands. 



44 The Harrison Campaign of 1840 

An advertisement appeared in which the agents of the 
Auburn Prison offered cash prices for cocoons and raw 
silk. Both began to pour into the market thus established 
and for four or five years the manufacture went on. 

But there were other things which had not entered into 
the calculations. Adult male convicts, however cheaply 
supported, or easily supervised, lacked the delicate touch 
of women and children, or the skilled experience of silk 
workers, which come by lifelong training. Worms and 
trees, though both may be raised with success in a northern 
climate, yet cannot be so cheaply raised as in a milder 
region. 

So prices declined, and the enthusiasm for the new in- 
dustry gradually waned. The "fever" passed, and in a 
few years more was entirely forgotten. 

1840. 

The Harrison Campaign of 1840. My boyish enthu- 
siasm was all for Henry Clay, "Harry of the West," as 
the Whig Presidential candidate, and my disappointment 
at his failure to receive the nomination at Harrisburg was 
by no means assuaged by the present, soon after, of a 
handsome flag inscribed with the names in gilt letters of 
"Tippecanoe & Tyler Too." 

But the campaign was a long and memorable one. 
Popular interest in it seemed to be increasing up to the 
day of election. The Whig leaders aided it with all the 
appliances that political skill or experience could suggest, 
and the Democrats found their arguments and even their 
ridicule of the Whig candidate turned to his advantage. 
Someone alluding to his pioneer western life had advised 
that Harrison be given a log cabin and plenty of "hard 
cider" to drink — implying that that condition of life was 
more fitting for him than the White House. 

It was an unfortunate sneer for the Democrats, for it 



The Harrison Campaign of 1840 45 

supplied the spark that only was needed to kindle popular 
sympathy into a blaze. The Whigs fanned the flame. 
He became "the Log Cabin" candidate. The log cabin 
became the emblem of his pioneer life, of his military 
services, of his kindred feeling for the farmers, of his un- 
requited toil for his country. A log cabin sprang up in 
nearly every city — a club house and rallying place for 
Whigs. Log-cabin "raisings" and house-warmings were 
held, with music and political speeches. Log-cabin 
medals were struck, and passed from hand to hand. 
Miniature log cabins were carried in processions and dis- 
played on platforms. Log-cabin pictures were hung in 
the bar-rooms and parlours. Log-cabin magazines and 
song-books found ready sale. Ladies made log-cabin 
fancy work for fairs, and children had little log cabins of 
wood, tin, and confectionery. 

The Whig State Committee got up a campaign news- 
paper, published simultaneously in New York and Al- 
bany, and named it the Log Cabin, calling Horace Greeley 
to its editorial chair. For him it was the stepping-stone 
to fame and fortune, for the energy and skill displayed 
in it, and its wide circulation, opened a way for its successor 
the Tribune. 

All the appurtenances of the log cabin came into favour ; 
there was the barrel of hard cider standing by the door, 
there was the coonskin nailed by its side, there was the 
latch string to admit the welcome guest, and it was remem- 
bered that Harrison told his old soldiers that they would 
never find his door shut or "the latchstring pulled in." 

But the log cabin was not the only ad captandum argu- 
ment used by the Whigs. Taking a lesson from their 
own crushing defeats by the "Hero of New Orleans," 
they hoisted flags, fired salutes, and declaimed panegyrics 
on the "Hero of the Thames," the "Defender of Fort 
Meigs," and the "Victor of Tippecanoe." 



46 The Harrison Campaign of 1840 

"Tippecanoe," besides being the leading exploit of the 
military chieftain, was a good sonorous name for the 
orators to pronounce, and clubs to sing in swelling chorus. 
For by this time the popular enthusiasm had burst out 
in song. Campaign songsters, glee-clubs, and Harrison 
minstrels were now in vogue. FamiHar old melodies 
were adapted to new words. But the "song of songs" 
was one which, having little music in it, everybody could 
sing, and nearly everybody did. 

This was: 

What has caused this great commotion, motion, motion, 
motion 

Our country through ? 
It is the ball a-rolling on, 

CHORUS 

For Tippecanoe and Tyler too, 

For Tippecanoe and Tyler too, 
And with them we'll beat little Van, 
Van, Van — Van is a used up man, 
And with them we'll beat little Van, 

This chant was hummed in parlours and kitchens — sung 
by the boys in the streets — marched to in processions, 
and was a grand finale at all Whig meetings, the whole 
audience shouting it through their thousand throats with 
as much fervour as Frenchmen sing the Marseillaise or 
Englishmen chant God Save the King. 

Most presidential candidates have a nickname, and 
General Harrison, long before the summer was over, was 
universally known as " Old Tip." There were Tippecanoe 
banners, Tippecanoe clubs, Tippecanoe meetings. Steam- 
boats were named after him, children christened for him. 
Dogs were called "Tip," and spans of horses were "Tip 
and Ty." 



The Harrison Campaign of 1840 47 

Political meetings took on a new character. They were 
no longer forced assemblages in club rooms, but spon- 
taneous outdoor crowds overflowing with enthusiasm. 
Whole counties were called to assemble in "mass-meeting" 
—whole States were invited to meet in mass convention. 
Great meetings were held in cities, and obscure country 
towns became the gathering points for thousands. Held 
by daylight the mass-meeting made a holiday for the 
whole surrounding region. Farmers flocked in by all the 
country roads bringing their wives and children. Delega- 
tions came by rail and steamboat from distant points. 
Nothing attracts a crowd so rapidly as the knowledge that 
there is a crowd already^ — and when it was known that 
there was to be not only a crowd, but music and festivity, 
flags, decorations and processions, eloquence of famous 
men and keen political humour, few could resist the infec- 
tion. Webster and Clay, Crittenden and Stanley, Cor- 
win, Leigh, Legare, Rives, Ogden Hoffman, Preston, and 
a hundred of lesser note were "on the stump." General 
Harrison himself made a speech at the Dayton Conven- 
tion. "Are you in favour of paper money?" asked the 
multitude. "I am," was the reply, and then the shouts 
of applause were deafening. 

Of course this was just the kind of campaign to strike 
the imagination of the small boy. I do not know how 
many meetings I attended, how many songs I sung, or 
how many log cabins I took part in erecting. 

It seemed to be the natural culmination of such a cam- 
paign when I was permitted to sit among the pages at the 
meeting of the Electoral College at Albany, and saw that 
august body cast their vote, under the lead of two Revo- 
lutionary veterans, Colonel James C. Burt of Orange 
County and Peter B. Porter of Niagara. 

The dramatic proceedings came to a sudden and tragic 
ending in April. I recall the popular grief when the news 



48 The Helderberg War 

came that the newly elected President lay dead in the 
White House. Funeral and memorial services were held 
at Albany and other cities, and I especially remember the 
torchlight procession with which they closed, when the 
coffin of "Old Tip" was borne in red glare with solemn 
music, and followed by the riderless horse of the old hero. 

The Helderberg War. The ancient Manor of Rensse- 
laerwyck, which dated back to the time of the earlier Dutch 
settlers, had been handed down from father to son in the 
Van Rensselaer family through a long line of "Patroons." 

While modern customs and innovations had gradually 
changed the aspect of the whole country, society, and 
government, the Patroon and his tenants were still con- 
tinuing the old usages of feudal tenure, of perpetual 
leases, of rent payable in fowls and bushels of wheat, in 
personal service and in "quarter sales." 

The Manor comprised a broad region of Albany and 
Rensselaer counties "extending on either side of the Hud- 
son River backward into the woods twenty-four English 
miles." It is said the original grant meant to give the 
Patroon the choice of a manor on one or the other side of 
the river, but that the grantees took advantage of the 
ambiguity of language of the grant and construed the 
words "either side" to mean both sides of the river. 

It had now become well settled, cultivated, and im- 
proved. The tenants had gradually come to think that 
their long occupancy of the lands and their improvements 
had at least vested a part of the ownership in themselves, 
and that the rents paid during so long a series of years 
more than compensated for the wild land which the first 
Van Rensselaers had sold to the original settlers. 

This theory had been much strengthened by the neglect 
of the "old Patroon," General Van Rensselaer, to make 
collections of his rents. When he died in the early part 



The Helderberg War 49 

of this year, the Manor had been divided between his 
sons, Stephen taking the part in Albany County and Wil- 
liam that in Rensselaer County. A third brother, Court- 
landt, took the real estate in New York City. 

It was in Albany County that the troubles began. 
The young Patroon's lawyers advised him he might en- 
force his legal right to collect rents. When this claim 
was made in behalf of the heir, the tenants very generally 
resolved to resist it as illegal and unjust. Legal measures 
were taken to compel payment. But when the sheriff 
went out upon the farms, he was met by gatherings of 
angry men with threats and execrations. Alarms were 
given through the neighbourhood, horns sounded, tar 
barrels fired, and the obnoxious writs were seized and 
thrown into the flames. Shouts of "Down with the 
Rent" were heard from the gathering crowd of rural 
rioters who, with brandished sticks and arms, and with 
threats of personal violence, compelled the official to 
turn his horses' heads towards home. 

Such was the news received in Albany. Thereupon 
the Sheriff resolved to resort to a posse comitatus. He 
summoned six or seven hundred citizens to appear at his 
office in Albany on Monday morning at ten o'clock. 

Great was the excitement, and much the merriment 
in the crowd that gathered round his office, and high was 
the delight of the small boys who flocked around to watch 
the marching of this novel force. The merriment in- 
creased when Sheriff Archer came out on the sidewalk 
and commenced to call the roll. It showed that he was 
no respecter of persons, for among the names were those 
of ex-Governor Marcy, Recorder McKoun, John Van 
Buren, the presidents and cashiers of the banks, the Pa- 
troon's lawyers, and the Patroon himself. 

The posse proceeded on horseback, on foot, and in 
carriages, with the sheriff in command, twelve miles from 



50 The Helderberg War 

the town, till he reached a small hamlet at the foot of the 
Helderberg. But here the posse summoned according 
to law met another posse, not summoned at all, and 
defiant of any law whatever. The unlawful gathering 
outnumbered the lawful one, for it mustered fifteen or 
eighteen hundred men, and furthermore it had clubs while 
the sheriff's posse had none. The sheriff became satisfied 
that his force was "entirely inadequate to overcome the 
resistance," an opinion in which his whole force unani- 
mously concurred. So they endeavoured to retreat to 
Albany in as good order as they came out of it. A second 
posse comprising a hundred or more armed men did not 
have a greater success. A rainstorm rendered the roads 
almost impassable, and this time the rioters resorted to 
the expedient of barricading all the places where the 
sheriff and his posse could find food or shelter from the 
storm. 

Only one alternative remained to vindicate the majesty 
of the offended law. That was to apply to the Governor 
for a military force, to enable the sheriff to execute his 
process. It was evident that the time had come for 
executive action. The messenger from the Sheriff arrived 
late at night, and Mr. Blatchford, the private secretary, 
was sent to summon the Secretary of State, Comptroller, 
and Adjutant-General, to a midnight council of war in 
my father's office. 

The council remained in session all night, and the dawn 
of day found them there round the table strewed with 
papers, and with candles still burning. 

Hitherto I had only seen my father's military staff in 
their holiday attire on parade occasions; now I found 
them suddenly transformed into an active and resolute 
group of young men quite ready to assume soldierly duties. 
Adjutant-General Rufus King proved his West Point 
education of value, in enabling him to accomplish that 



The Helderberg War 51 

greatest proof of military skill, of massing an effective 
body of troops at the shortest possible notice. Colonels 
Amory, Bowen, and Benedict were sent "to the front," 
with orders to attend to the movement of troops; the 
commissariat was supplied by wagon loads of bread and 
meat, blankets and tents. Major William Bloodgood 
was assigned to the command of a battalion, consisting 
of the Burgesses Corps, the Van Rensselaer Guards, the 
Union Guards, the Republican Artillery of Albany, be- 
sides three Troy companies, the Citizens* Corps, the 
Independent Artillery, and the City Guards. The various 
bodies of troops were ordered to move at once and rein- 
forcements from the Mohawk Valley were held in readiness 
to arrive if needed. 

In the morning a proclamation was issued by the Gover- 
nor enjoining upon the people of the country "to aid 
and assist the officers of justice in performing their duty," 
and appealing to all who had taken part in the unlawful 
proceedings to reflect upon their consequences and re- 
member that organized insurrection, in our republic, is 
absurd and unnecessary. The lawful means to obtain 
relief from any injuries or .grievances are to appeal to the 
courts and the Legislature, which are open to all the citi- 
zens of a self-governing State. He further added: "I 
assure them that they shall receive every facility which 
the executive department can afford in bringing their 
complaints before the Legislature. I enjoin upon them 
to conduct and demean themselves as orderly, peaceable, 
and well disposed citizens, justly estimating the invalu- 
able privileges they enjoy, and knowing that the only 
security for the preservation of their rights consists in 
the complete ascendancy of the laws." 

As I heard this proclamation copied and read by the 
secretary, and was permitted to affix the privy seal to it, 
it seemed to me so simple and plain that any American 



52 The Helderberg War 

schoolboy ought to have known as much as that. I won- 
dered at the ignorance of the country people. It was my 
first experience — often repeated since — of discovering 
that even American citizens do not always remember the 
fundamental principles of their own government. 

The troops moved with a celerity worthy of veterans. 
It was on Tuesday morning that their orders were issued, 
and before noon the Troy companies passed through 
Albany on their way "to the front," and were furnished 
with two field pieces from the arsenal. The proclamation 
was published in all the newspapers and copies were 
struck off in handbill form, which the troops scattered 
broadcast in the insurrectionary regions. 

While the Governor was sitting at breakfast on Thurs- 
day morning a bearer of military dispatches dashed up 
to his door, and handed him a packet from Major Blood- 
good. It was dated at the headquarters of the expedi- 
tionary force at Rensselaerville. It stated that he had 
met a large assemblage of people at Reidsville. Halting 
on the hill and forming his force in solid column, he had 
marched into the midst of them, and told the Sheriff to 
do his duty. The Sheriff had done so, served his process, 
and had taken one prisoner, who had been sent to the 
rear, greatly to his relief, as he had begged for quarter, 
under the impression that he was to be instantly shot. 
The Major stated that the appearance of the troops and 
the knowledge of reinforcements hurrying forward had 
made such an impression upon the inhabitants that there 
was no longer danger to his command, that the troops 
would continue with the Sheriff and enable him to execute 
his process as they passed through the country. 

Meanwhile there came to the Executive Mansion a 
letter, from Azor Taber and Henry G. Wheaton, saying 
that leading citizens of the towns where the disturbance 
existed had come in, to ask those gentlemen to make 



An Artistic Contest 53 

representations in their behalf to the Governor. They 
were desirous to avail themselves of the occasion pre- 
sented by his proclamation to end the difficulties. They 
requested Messrs. Taber and Wheaton to assure the 
Governor that all resistance to the Sheriff should cease, 
and that the assemblage of people should quietly disperse. 

Dispatches continued to come during Thursday and 
Friday and Saturday of similar tenor. 

Sunday morning there was a heavy snowstorm. In 
the midst of it, and while the bells were ringing for church, 
the sound of drums was heard approaching on the hill 
beyond the Capitol. It was the returning force who, 
wrapped in their blankets, had marched twelve miles 
since daybreak, plodding through the drifting snow and 
bringing their three prisoners in a wagon. 

The Governor sprang into his sleigh, taking me with 
him, and drove up State Street. He met, received, and 
welcomed the troops, under the shelter of the Schenectady 
Railway Depot, and thanked them for their good conduct 
and patriotism. They cheered him in return, and marched 
to their respective armories. So ended the first campaign 
of the "Helderbarrack." 

1843. 

An Artistic Contest. The Governor's Room in the 
City Hall of New York is so called, because, in accordance 
with time-honoured custom, it has been used as an official 
reception room for governors of the State when they visit 
the city, and has been the repository of portraits of former 
governors from George Clinton down. 

The Common Council, in 1843, desired to add to this 
collection a full-length portrait of my father. But no 
artist had been designated, there being divided opinions 
as to their respective merits. 

So, after visiting many different studios, a committee 



54 An Artistic Contest 

consisting of Messrs. Minturn, Draper, Ruggles, Grinnell, 
Blatchford, and others concluded to gratify all the con- 
flicting preferences by inviting five artists — Inman, 
Harding, Huntington, Page, and Gray — each to paint a 
portrait of the ex-Governor. The Common Council 
might select whichever it chose, and his personal friends 
would themselves take the others. 

In accordance with this arrangement, Chester Harding 
was to begin; he arrived at Auburn early in March and 
was a guest at my father's house, where he was also a 
genial and hearty companion. 

His studio on Main Street became a favourite re- 
sort for the little circle at Auburn who were interested 
in art. His pictures and his conversation won the esteem 
of the villagers, and parties were made in his honour. 
Harding's massive figure seemed as if fitted for athletic 
exercise. It would have befitted a commanding general; 
he was six feet three inches high, with a large face, hands 
too large for ordinary gloves, eyes too broadly separated 
for ordinary spectacles. He was a fine looking man, of 
evident vigour and energy, but the last person a casual 
observer would suspect of delicate handling of palette and 
pencil. Harding completed his work in July, and took 
his leave. 

A few days later Henry Inman arrived, to enter upon 
his work. He was high in public esteem, occupying the 
first rank among American artists. He showed in every 
look and action the fruits of a life of artistic culture, ease, 
and taste. Graceful and engaging in his manners, fluent 
and imaginative in his conversation, he had almost a 
boyish fondness for fun, and a keen eye for the beauties 
of nature. 

He had not been an hour in the house before it seemed as 
if he were an old acquaintance. He told me that he would 
go out with me into the morello cherry trees, whose 



An Artistic Contest 55 

fruit was just hanging red and ripe, and promised my 
brother that he would go with him to the Owasco Lake 
for boating and perch fishing, both of which promises he 
fulfilled before the week was out. 

"Music, Mr. Seward," said he, as he was sketching 
the outlines of my father's face in crayon, "music I think 
must be the vernacular in Heaven. They may have some 
other language for grave, intellectual, and religious topics, 
but for the small talk I think they probably use music — 
now, Mr. Seward, wait one moment before you answer. 
I want to catch that expression I see on your face, before 
you move a muscle." 

The Episcopal Convention of the new diocese of Western 
New York held its session in Auburn during August. 
For a week the village was full of clergymen. It happened 
also to be the anniversary week of the Presbyterian 
Seminary, and it was remarked that nearly every other 
man you met in the streets had spectacles or a white 
cravat. Said one, "I see, Governor, that you are being 
painted in a white cravat; are you adopting the theolog- 
ical custom?" 

"No," said he, "that is the artist's taste." Inman 
added: "I never paint a man in a black cravat if I can 
help it. On canvas, especially with a dark background, 
it looks as if his head was cut off." 

Inman remained two or three weeks in Auburn and 
finished the "study," from which the full-length portrait 
for the City Hall was to be painted. This "study" still 
hangs in the parlour at Auburn, in its original place. 

Sometime later the committee of the Common Council 
met, who were to decide about the portrait, but they were 
divided in opinion between that of Harding and that of 
Inman. Both were so excellent that, after careful exami- 
nation and comparison of views, they declared themselves 
unable to say that either was better than the other. 



56 John Quincy Adams at Auburn 

When this was announced to the artists, Inman with 
his usual cheerful vivacity laughed and said to Harding: 

"Well, we shall have to settle this ourselves. Let us 
toss up for it?" 

Harding assented, and Inman, drawing a half dollar 
from his pocket, threw it up in the air, saying, "Heads or 
tails?" 

Heads came up and Inman won. 

His picture was formally turned over to the Common 
Council, and it still hangs in the Governor's Room. 

The friends who had originated the competition had 
already determined that whichever picture was not taken 
by the city, they would purchase, and present to my 
father's children; they did so, and Harding's portrait 
was intrusted to the care of Seth C. Hawley until the 
children should grow up. 

In due time it was delivered according to this arrange- 
ment. 

It hung in my house at Albany during my residence 
there. When I moved to Washington, the Rev. Dr. 
Campbell, on behalf of the trustees of the State Library, 
asked that it might be left at Albany until my return. 
For many years it occupied the central place in the row 
of portraits at the library. 

When the old library building was finally torn down to 

make room for the new Capitol, it was transferred to the 

Executive Chamber in that building, and there it still 

hangs. 

1843. 

John Quincy Adams at Auburn. In the summer of 
1843, John Quincy Adams was visiting Niagara Falls. 
When news came that the venerable ex-President would 
return through Western New York, my father, who had 
been for so many years one of his political disciples, sug- 
gested that he should be received with suitable demon- 



John Quincy Adams at Auburn 57 

strations of welcome. The suggestion, however, was 
hardly needed, for the western part of the State was full 
of his admirers, some dating back to the time when he 
was a presidential candidate; others more recently en- 
listed under his banner as defender of the Right of Petition. 

At Buffalo he was received with a public demonstration 
and an address by Mr. Fillmore, at Rochester with a pro- 
cession, and at Canandaigua with an address by Francis 
Granger. 

My father and grandfather went over there to meet him. 
Arriving at Auburn in the evening he was met by a torch- 
light procession, which escorted him to our house, where 
he was introduced to the people and addressed them 
briefly from the steps. Much fatigued, he declined eating, 
drank a glass of wine, and retired to his room as soon as 
prepared. At five o'clock the next morning he rose, and 
at six went over to visit the State Prison, returning to 
breakfast at eight. 

The conversation turned naturally upon the condition 
of public affairs and the political outlook. The question 
of slavery having been broached, the customary opinion of 
the times was expressed by one of the guests, that the 
institution was a colonial inheritance from Great Britain, 
incongruous with our republican system, which must 
eventually disappear. To this Mr. Adams seemed to as- 
sent. One of the gentlemen said: "But do you not think, 
Mr. Adams, that it will be peacefully and legally abolished 
— perhaps twenty, perhaps fifty years hence.?" Mr. 
Adams had sat with head bent forward, apparently in 
reverie. The inquiry roused him in a moment. With 
a keen glance at the speaker, he said: "I used to think so, 
but I do not now. I am satisfied that it will not go down 
until it goes down in blood/' ' 

A pause ensued and then somebody remembered that 
it was time to proceed to the church, where Mr. Adams 



58 John Quincy Adams at Auburn 

was to have a formal public reception at nine o'clock. 
The citizens of Auburn and their families had already filled 
the church to overflowing. 

The ceremonies at the church were simple. An address 
of welcome by my father, in behalf of his townsmen, was 
followed by suitable response from Mr. Adams, expressing 
his thanks for the courtesy shown him, his good wishes 
for the future of the village and its citizens, but without 
touching upon any of the public questions of the day. A 
short time was then spent in introductions, shaking hands, 
and conversation. The hour fixed for his departure drew 
near, and at eleven he left the railroad station in a special 
train, amid the acclamations of the gathered crowd. 

"Governor," said a friend, a short time afterward when 
some allusion was made to the startling remark in regard 
to slavery, "Mr. Adams is a very great man, but he is 
growing old. Don't you think he is rather despondent, 
■ — discouraged perhaps, by what he sees at Washington?" 

"I think," was the answer, "that he is wiser than any 
of us on that subject; but I shall not give up my hope of 
a peaceful solution, so long as any such solution is possible. 
At any rate it is our duty to labour for such a one." 

Mr. Adams, after leaving Auburn, was received with 
ovations along the entire route. The Whigs hoisted flags 
in honour of his coming and had special ceremonies of 
reception at Herkimer, Little Falls, and Schenectady. 
He reached Boston three or four days later. 

A characteristic expression of a steamboat captain with 
whom he travelled illustrated the popular feeling. He 
said: " Oh, if you could only take the engine out of the old 
Adams, and put it into a new hull!" 

1845. 
Entering College. There is a fascination to every boy 
in the idea of "going to college." However pleasant his 



Entering College 59 

home, he has a natural desire to enter into the life of that 
microcosm which is supposed to separate boyhood from 
manhood. Usually, it is neither the studies nor the sports 
which are the chief attraction, but rather the indefinable 
longing to mingle with others, each of whom is also learn- 
ing how to be "a man among men." At least that was 
my case. My lot in childhood had been cast in pleasant 
places, guarded with sedulous care, and cheered by every 
reasonable indulgence; and yet I was quite ready, when 
the time came, to go out to seek adventures in college 
halls. At the age of fifteen, I had accompanied the pious 
JEneas in his voyages to the end of his twelfth book of 
hexameters, had dipped into the Greek Testament, and 
pursued the Arabic numerals as far as the Rule of Three — 
and so believed myself fit to be a freshman. 

Union College had been my father's Alma Mater. Dr. 
Nott, who was his preceptor there, and had been his guide, 
philosopher, and friend ever since, was still hale and vigor- 
ous and, as President, was still dispensing instruction and 
discipline to another generation. So I was sent to become 
a student at "Old Union." 

I well remember the thrill of pleasurable excitement when 
I donned my first frock coat, put on my first high hat and 
standing collar, and heard myself accosted as "Mr. Sew- 
ard." No more "roundabouts," no more of the enforced 
tedium of the schoolroom, or the noisy fun of the play- 
ground. Majora canamus. 

My father accompanied me on the train to Schenectady. 
On the way down the Mohawk Valley various passengers 
came to talk to him. Among them was a young man who, 
like myself, had a very youthful face surmounted by a 
very elderly hat, with standing collar and frock coat like 
my own. He introduced himself as a son of Senator Hard, 
and I was not surprised to learn that he was also on his 
way to the college. We speedily became intimate friends. 



6o Entering College 

He was in the senior class, and his superior wisdom and 
experience enabled him to give me much useful informa- 
tion in regard to my fellow students and instructors, and 
the routine of college life. When we arrived at Schenec- 
tady, he was surrounded by a group of other students 
at the station, whose jocose remarks to each other, and 
easy self-possession in the presence of their elders, seemed 
to me quite worthy of emulation. 

We proceeded leisurely up Union Street, my father 
pointing out scenes recalling incidents of his own college 
days, and arrived at last at the grey old buildings "on 
the Hill." Our first visit was to President Nott, and our 
next, by his advice, to Professor Reed, at whose house 
the Examining Board was in session. Both the venerable 
President and the genial Professor of Greek had been fre- 
quent visitors in Albany. The examination proved satis- 
factory and not very severe. As one of my new college 
friends had told me, "A freshman isn't expected to know 
much at the beginning of his year, but he'll know lots 
more at the end of it." 

Presenting my certificates and paying the entrance fee 
to the Registrar, Alexander Holland, my name was entered 
in the great book, and I was informed that I was duly 
"matriculated." A key was handed me as that of a room 
on the second floor in the South College, thenceforth to 
be my home. Brick flooring and heavy oak stairs led up 
to it. The walls were whitewashed, the floors bare, and 
the woodwork of the plainest kind, but abundantly 
ornamented by the carved initials of previous tenants, 
which were also inscribed on some of the panes of glass 
in the window. So far from regarding these as defects, it 
pleased my fancy to believe that they indicated "fellows" 
having a good time, and not subjected to overmuch in- 
spection or restraint. 

A cot and bedding, a table and chairs, a washstand and 



Entering College 6i 

its appurtenances, an oil lamp and a small looking-glass 
were speedily purchased at a shop in the town. The shop- 
keeper promised to send them up immediately. My father 
told him to send the larger articles, adding that we would 
carry up the small ones ourselves. So, taking the pitcher 
in his hand, he gave me the lamp and looking-glass, and 
we marched up Union Street again. On the way we met 
Professor Reed, driving out with his family. "Why, 
Governor," said he, "you look as if you were going to 
housekeeping." 

"No, I am not," was the reply, "but Frederick is, and 
I thought that if he saw me carrying things through the 
street of Schenectady, he would probably never be afraid 
or ashamed to do it himself." 

We spent the next day in Albany, and when I returned 
in the evening, after taking leave of my father, I entered 
my room, and found all my new furniture piled up in a 
heap in the centre. I had not provided such trivial 
necessaries as oil and matches, and so, groping in the dark 
for enough to make a bed on the floor, I slept soundly 
till daybreak. 

At half-past five a loud knocking at the door roused 
me. Opening it, I met the good-humoured face of an 
Irishman who informed me that he was "Pat," and that he 
had charge of the rooms. He gave me the further informa- 
tion that the chapel bell at the West College would ring 
at six, and a second time twenty minutes later, and then 
be immediately followed by the roll-call. As the West 
College was down in the town, and nearly a mile away, I 
hastened my toilet, to arrive in time. 

The West College, I found, was a substantial old brick 
building, that had once been a school, and once served as 
a town hall. It was now the abode of the freshmen and 
sophomores — the buildings on "the Hill" being entirely 
filled by the senior and junior classmen. In a large and 



62 Entering College 

rather dingy-looking chapel I saw my future classmates 
ranged in a row. There were but eighteen of us in all. 
But on the other side of the chapel there was a larger row 
of sixty or seventy sophomores. Some had the dress and 
air of cultivated young gentlemen; others had not yet 
discarded the look of rustic schoolboys. 

We all listened intently to the roll-call, not only to 
answer to our own names, but to learn the names of the 
others. I think we hardly gave due attention to the 
brief religious services, as we were eagerly scanning the 
ranks, and wondering what sort of fellows we should find 
each other to be. All things seem possible to the youth- 
ful imagination; so I suppose that if I had that morning 
been told that one of my fellow-students in that chapel 
was destined to be a general, another a senator, another 
a judge, another a bishop, another to be a cabinet minister, 
and another to be president of the United States, I should 
not have been at all surprised. But we all should have 
been much surprised, if we had been told upon which 
ones those destined honours were to fall. 

A short recitation followed, and then we dispersed to 
our respective breakfasts, and on the way began our 
mutual acquaintance, without much formality of intro- 
ductions. 

As my room was on "the Hill" and my class at the 
West College, it necessitated walking three times back 
and forth between them. But this six-mile walk I soon 
learned to consider no hardship, and it doubtless largely 
contributed to my rapid improvement in health, strength, 
and growth, for, having been rather a puny lad, I was 
now attaining a height of nearly six feet. 

There was a further advantage in the fact that I was 
thus thrown into relations with the freshmen and sopho- 
mores during part of the day, and w4th the juniors and 
seniors during the other part, thus enlarging my acquaint- 



Entering College 63 

ance, and allowing me to profit by the experiences of the 
men of all classes. 

The professors and tutors treated us all courteously, 
and gave us instruction in their respective departments. 
But matters of conduct and discipline were left almost 
wholly to the President — or "Old Prex," as we used to 
call him. We believed then, and I am of the same opinion 
still, that for this work he was peculiarly gifted and quali- 
fied. His profound and sympathetic knowledge of human 
nature, his wise judgment, good humour, and good sense, 
enabled him to win not merely respect but affection. 
His chief aim seemed to be to cultivate and encourage 
the student's self-reliance and sense of personal responsi- 
bility' — so as to fit him to become a good citizen and a 
practical man of affairs. Doubtless he watched over us 
with paternal care, but if there was espionage we never 
knew it; if there was advice, it was sound; if there was 
reproof, it was deserved. Discipline there was, but never 
harsh or unjust. 

Not only the curriculum of our studies, but our 
organization of societies, debates, meetings, and elec- 
tions were no bad preparation for similar work in later 
life. 

The tone of the student body was such as might be 
expected. We felt ourselves to be no longer schoolboys. 
Mischievous pranks were tolerated, but not applauded 
nor imitated. There was a strong esprit de corps. New- 
comers were treated with kindness; old graduates with 
high regard. Of course there were students who were 
inclined to dissipation and idleness; but these were the 
exceptions, not the rule. There was a sort of latent feeling 
that it behooved a student at "Old Union" to act like 
a man and behave like a gentleman. 

Athletic games and sports were not yet in fashion. 
Yet we thought we had plenty of opportunity for outdoor 



64 Entering College 

exercise, whether walking, riding, rowing, swimming, 
boxing, or fencing. 

It was my good fortune to have a seat at Dr. Nott's 
table, and to that extent I became an inmate of his family 
circle. It was a large one, comprising not only his family, 
but the sons of several of his intimate friends. As he 
sat benignly at the head of the table, there was nothing 
of the stern pedagogue or the morose invahd in his manner. 
He was rather the genial host, the wise and kindly grand- 
father, always cheerful and interesting. Our undergrad- 
uate talk was naturally of college themes and gossip, 
but we were speedily lifted out of that, to the discussion 
of the broader topics of the day. He would say: 

"Clarkson, what do the papers say this morning about 
the revolutionists in Paris? Are the students there still 
singing the Marseillaise, and throwing up barricades in 
the streets?" 

"Howard, my son, how are they getting on at the 
Novelty Works, with that newly invented cut-off valve 
for the steam engine?" 

"Mr. Perry, your German friends seem to be announc- 
ing some almost incredible theories about the connection 
of electricity with animal life." 

"Mr. Whitridge, have you noticed those remarkable 
discoveries of paintings in the recent excavations at 
Pompeii?" 

"Frederick, what do you hear from your brother with 
the army in Mexico? I hope they are going to make 
peace down there before long." 

"Yes, John, tirosh is the Hebrew word for the unfer- 
mented juice of the grape. But you won't find any of 
it in the Schenectady bar-rooms. They only sell the 
intoxicating yayin, and even that I believe is adulterated." 

I think he liked to draw out our crude opinions on these 
and kindred topics. There was an amused twinkle in 



Entering College 65 

his eye as he listened to them, but there was no parade 
of superior knowledge in his comments. His sound 
maxims and humorous illustrations would illuminate the 
whole subject, and, unconsciously to ourselves, we were 
gaining as much instruction at every meal as from any 
recitation in the classroom. 

We did not realize then, as we have since, that we were 
being led up from the realm of small talk to that of intel- 
ligent observation of the world's progress in civilization 
and enlightenment. 

The study at Union that was of prime importance in 
those days was known as " Kames." It was the afternoon 
lecture or recitation of the senior class, in which Dr. Nott 
was the preceptor. It was based upon Kames's Elements 
oj Criticism. But Lord Kames himself would have 
rubbed his eyes in astonishment, if he could have seen 
and heard the use that was made of his book. He would 
have found it so amplified and expanded that, instead of 
a compend of aesthetics, it had become a comprehensive 
study of human nature, ranging over the whole field of 
physical, moral, and intellectual philosophy, and applied 
to practical use in business, politics, and religion. Usually 
this afternoon session took the form of a monologue by 
Dr. Nott, replete with wit and wisdom, but varied occa- 
sionally by question or dialogue, to keep up individual 
attention in the class. We were taught the analysis of 
human emotions and passions^ — how to control our own, 
how to deal with the manifestation of them by others, 
how to choose the modes of expression and the rules for 
conduct of life that would enable each to use his natural 
powers to the best advantage. Quotations from authors 
and illustrations from history and from the Doctor's own 
experience lent the whole a fascinating interest. 

There was a pocket pamphlet surreptitiously printed 
and circulated in the class, that was called "Little Kames." 
s 



66 Entering College 

It contained an abstract of each chapter, thus saving the 
indolent student the labour of studying. Dr. Nott knew 
of the practice but never positively forbade it. He used 
to say the big book was better than the little primer, but 
the little one was better than nothing. 

He would say: "Someone in the class, I suppose, has 
a copy of it in his pocket. Take it out, my son, and read 
what the author says on the point we have been discuss- 
ing. No, I don't want you to repeat his words by rote. 
If you do, you may think it is an infallible rule, and per- 
haps it isn't. I want you to read it over carefully, and then 
think for yourself whether the author is right or wrong. 
You can get a good deal of instruction out of a book that 
you don't entirely agree with. If you wish to commit 
universal truths to memory, take up your Bible or Shake- 
speare. You will find more of them there than anywhere 
else." 

The ringing of the chapel bell at five o'clock brought 
the lecture to an end. But all graduates of that period 
remember their "Kames." Many a clergyman, many an 
author, many a lawyer and statesman has found that 
Dr. Nott and "Kames" have given him the solution of 
some of the most perplexing problems of his life. 

When the students among themselves spoke of " Old 
Prex," it was not in tones of disrespect, but rather those 
of friendly regard. They looked after his stately figure 
whenever it appeared in chapel or on the campus with 
affectionate admiration, from the first day when they saw 
him driving his three-wheeled carriage, to the last one 
when he put on his three-cornered hat to distribute their 
diplomas on Commencement Day. 

Leaving College. The last days at college bring as 
vivid a memory to the mind of the "alumnus" as the 
opening ones. Each period marks an era in his life. 



Leaving College 67 

When the inevitable "Commencement" (which is also 
the ending) of our college life begins to loom up in the near 
future, we of the senior class begin to realize that we are 
about to leave tried friends and familiar scenes, and may 
have to encounter others that may prove far less enjoyable. 

We have reached the top of the present ladder, and 
are to begin at the bottom of the next one. Our studies 
are no longer onerous, and we no longer fear "exams." 
Having learned all that there is to know in the "curricu- 
lum," we feel that we have attained a state of wisdom 
and dignity almost, if not quite, equal to that of the 
Faculty. We are confirmed in this opinion by the high 
respect and deference shown to us by the members of the 
lower classes. 

Contrary to what might be expected, we talk but little 
of our plans for our future lives and careers in the world 
of maturity. We have plenty of plans and projects but 
their details are hazy and uncertain. Our immediate 
topics of conversation are the things to be done at and 
about Commencement time. There is an undertone of 
regret at our approaching separation. 

"Seward," said Charles Nott to me, one day, "these 
fellows are exchanging daguerreotypes, and promising 
to go to see each other, and to write each other once a 
fortnight. Of course they won't do it, or can't do it — 
at any rate, not long. Then coolness and distance will 
supervene, and they will drift apart. What shall we do 
about corresponding with each other?" 

"Suppose," I answered, "that we make a promise that 
we can keep. Let us promise never to write to each other, 
except on business." 

"Agreed," said he, and we shook hands on it. 

Sixty years have elapsed since then, and the Chief 
Justice and I have continued our uninterrupted friend- 
ship. The mutual promise has been, on the whole, faith- 



68 Washington in '49 and '50 

fully kept — though the "business" has sometimes been 
rather trivial. But such a promise is a sheet anchor for 
good understanding, since it furnishes an all-sufficient 
explanation for any apparent forgetfulness or lack of 
interest. 

1849-50. 

Washington in '49 and '50. The Compromise Debate. 
Fairly started as a law student, and endeavouring to 
master that abstruse science by the help of Blackstone, 
Kent, and divers and sundry other volumes bound in for- 
midable "law-calf," and even trying my "prentice 
hand" at drawing papers for actual use in practice, 
the study of my profession occupied my days, until it 
was interrupted for the winter by a summons to Washing- 
ton to become a private secretary of my father, who had 
now been elected a member of the United States Senate. 

I found him ensconced in his new home on F Street. 
It was a respectable, unpretending red brick structure, 
and was one of a block of three ordinary city houses, each 
twenty-five feet wide and all just alike. Near the Patent 
Office, the General Post Office, and the shops on Seventh 
Street, it was a convenient place of residence, and within 
walking distance of the Capitol. Some books had been 
sent down from Auburn, with his old writing chair. His 
office, or study, was established in the basement. 

Washington in 1849 had become a town of about forty 
thousand inhabitants, either connected with the business 
of government themselves, or engaged in supplying the 
needs of those who were. It was in its least attractive 
stage. The rural beauty of its youth was gone; the 
tasteful elegance of its maturity had not yet come. It 
was still the "City of Magnificent Distances." Little 
else about it was magnificent. The white fronts of the 
Capitol and the Executive Mansion gleamed through 



Washington in '49 and '50 69 

surrounding foliage at each end of "the Avenue," the 
substantial Post Office building and the long colonnade 
of the Treasury looked finished and imposing. The old 
brick edifices for State, War, and Navy Departments were 
still standing. The Smithsonian was gradually rising 
out of a chaos of brick and freestone. There was a maze 
of broad, unpaved streets, dusty in summer, muddy in 
winter, along which were scattered detached houses or 
straggling rows of buildings. Lamps were few. Houses 
were not numbered, and the visitor who wanted to find a 
residence had to depend upon the hack-drivers, whose 
method of memory seemed to be that each person lived 
"just a Httle way from" somewhere else. 

Though the capital of the nation, it was in all social 
and industrial aspects a Southern town. The slave pen 
and the auction block were prominent on a public thor- 
oughfare. Many families owned slaves, whom they used 
for domestic service or "hired out" to perform it for 
others, the owner receiving the slave's wages. Society 
looked upon "Abolition" with dread and disgust. 

Not only in Washington but throughout the country 
it was realized that the coming session of Congress was 
likely to be a long and stormy one. Our great acquisition 
of territory from Mexico, after the Mexican War, had 
raised the question whether it should be used for slave- 
holding or free States. 

The two great political parties had commenced to dis- 
integrate on that issue. The Democrats had nominated 
General Cass and the Whigs General Taylor for the 
Presidency. But many anti-slavery men of both parties 
withdrew from their party affiliations, and held a formid- 
able convention at Buffalo, where they organized a "Free 
Soil" party, nominating ex-President Van Buren for 
President and Charles Francis Adams for Vice-President. 
The three-sided contest thus begun resulted in the election 



N/^ 



70 Washington in '49 and '50 

of General Taylor and a Congress embracing all the war- 
ring elements. 

Meanwhile the discovery of gold in California had at- 
tracted thousands of new settlers. These held a conven- 
tion and adopted a "Free-State" constitution, which 
Congress was now to approve or reject. 

On Monday, the 3d of December, the flags were hoisted 
on the two wings of the Capitol. The Thirty-first Con- 
gress began its session, destined to be a memorable one 
in history. Of course I was a frequent visitor, to avail 
myself of the opportunity to look down upon the proceed- 
ings from the galleries. 

The Senate Chamber of that period was the room 
afterwards occupied by the Supreme Court. Semicircular 
in form, graceful in proportions, with its dark marble 
columns and crimson hangings, it had an air of stately 
dignity, more impressive to the spectator in the narrow 
gallery than the spacious, easy, and comfortable Chamber 
of the present day. Looking down upon the Senators, 
one saw many that were already famous. On the right 
of the main aisle were to be seen the massive head and 
deep-set eyes of Webster, the tall and commanding figure 
of Clay, the dark but genial face of Corwin, the white 
head of "Honest John Davis," the calm and cautious 
\ visage of John Bell, the scholarly looking head of Berrien, 
the tall forms of Mangum and Dayton, and the merry 
smile of John P. Hale; on the left, the portly form of 
General Cass, the towering bulk of General Houston, 
ex-President of Texas, the classic head and genial face 
of Colonel Benton, the long, grey locks and sharp attenu- 
ated features of Calhoun, the erect, slender figure of 
Jefferson Davis, the swarthy, foreign-looking face of Pierre 
Soule, the energetic, black-clothed "Little Giant" Doug- 
las, the dark, curling locks of Hunter, and the silver-haired 
familiar face of Daniel S. Dickinson. 



Washington in '49 and '50 71 

As a new Senator, my father's choice among seats was 
limited to such as were vacant. He selected one on the 
Whig side, but soon after relinquished it to oblige Mr. 
Clay, and took the chair on Clay's right hand, at the 
extreme end of the back or outer row of chairs. This, 
however, had some advantages. It was remote from the 
noisy main entrance, and conveniently near the private 
door, for conferences with friends or visitors. The Senate 
Chamber was not so large but that every member could, 
without difficulty, catch the eye of the presiding officer 
and be heard in debate. He liked the place so well that 
he retained it during most of his Senatorial term. 

Passing over now to the other wing of the Capitol, I 
entered the gallery of the House of Representatives. Here 
I looked down upon a busy, bustling scene, very different 
from the quiet dignity of the Senate. The House had 
commenced its session with a struggle over the Speaker- 
ship. The Whigs had nominated Robert C. Winthrop 
of Massachusetts. The Democrats had nominated How- 
ell Cobb of Georgia. As a majority of the whole House 
was required to elect a Speaker, there was no choice. 
Anti-slavery men were baffied ; Southern men were exult- 
ant. 

The House as a whole contained many members whose 
names were then, or have since, become historic. Massa- 
chusetts had sent Horace Mann and Robert C. Winthrop ; 
Pennsylvania had Thaddeus Stevens and David Wilmot ; 
North Carolina, Edward Stanley; Georgia had sent 
Alexander H. Stephens, Robert Toombs, and Thomas 
Butler King; Alabama, Henry W. Hilliard; Mississippi, 
Albert J. Brown and Jacob Thompson; Louisiana, 
Charles W. Conrad ; Ohio had Joshua R. Giddings, David 
A. Carter, Robert C. Schenck, Samuel F. Vinton, and 
Lewis D. Campbell ; Kentucky had Linn Boyd ; Tennessee 
had Andrew Johnson and Frederick P. Stanton; Illinois 



72 Washington in '49 and '50 

had Edward D. Baker, John A. McClernand, and John 
Wentworth; Wisconsin had Charles Durkee, and Min- 
nesota, Henry K. Sibley. 

The New York delegation was a strong one and pre- 
sented many faces with which I was already familiar. 
Of the thirty-four, the larger part were Whigs. Among 
them were John A. King, Charles E. Clarke, Harvey 
Putnam, Elijah Risley, O. B. Matteson, John L. School- 
craft, William A. Sackett, Elbridge G. Spaulding, and A. 
M. Schermerhorn. Among the Democrats was Preston 
King. 

Roll-call after roll-call followed each other in tedious 
succession. Nearly three weeks were consumed in fruit- 
less attempts to effect a choice. Sixty-two ballotings 
were taken, and between them occurred heated debates 
and recriminations. One day an Indiana member was 
nearly elected by a hasty combination, which then col- 
lapsed amid great excitement. 

At last, on the 226. of December, it was decided to let 
a plurality determine the result. This elected Howell 
Cobb. So the Democrats had control of both Chambers. 
The speakership contest having been settled on Saturday, 
the President was informed that Congress would be ready 
to receive his message on Monday. 

President Taylor was a Southern man and a slaveholder. 
But he was an old soldier, intensely loyal to the Union, 
with the firmness of General Jackson, but without his 
stormy temper. General Scott used to say that when he 
spoke of General Taylor as "an upright man" his wife 
quickly added, "Yes, and a downright one." My father 
in one of his letters to Weed, said: "The malcontents of 
the South mean to be factious, and they expect to compel 
compromise. I think the President is as willing to try 
conclusions with them as General Jackson was with the 
NuUifiers." 



Washington in '49 and '50 73 

Monday morning the message was received. Of course 
the part most eagerly listened to, as it was read from the 
Clerk's desk, was that which declared the President's 
policy in regard to the new Territories. This was saga- 
cious and clear. Shortly after his inauguration he had 
sent out to the Pacific Coast Thomas Butler King, of 
Georgia, to invite the people of California and New Mexico 
to form State constitutions, and with them apply for 
admission to the Union. This was the "President's 
plan," and it seemed to be a more speedy and practicable 
plan than either the plan of "disunion" or the plan of 
"compromise," especially as California had already ac- 
cepted the invitation, and was now ready to present herself 
at the door of Congress with a "free-State constitution." 
But for that very reason it was not satisfactory to those 
who deemed "an equilibrium" necessary, between free 
and slaveholding States, nor to those who wanted slavery 
extended. My father, having heartily concurred in the 
President's invitation when it was sent, was now even 
more heartily disposed to approve and defend its results. 

The deep dissatisfaction which existed in the South 
in view of the possibility that slaveholders might be for- 
bidden to take their slaves to California was manifested 
in both Chambers nearly every day. One representative 
said: "If slavery is to be abolished in the District, or 
prohibited in the Territories, I trust in God that my eyes 
have rested on the last Speaker of the House of Represen- 
tatives." Another said: "I do not hesitate to own, 
before this House and the country, and in the presence of a 
living God, that if, by your legislation, you seek to drive us 
from the Territories, and to abolish slavery in this District, 
I am for Disunion." In one wing of the Capitol it was 
said: "The day in which aggression is consummated, this 
Union is dissolved," and in the other wing a Senator echoed 
that the Union was "already dissolved." 



74 Washington in '49 and '50 

The Senate was believed to be conservative, and had 
among its members Clay, Webster, Calhoun, Benton, 
Cass, and Douglas — all ambitious to lead, and none of 
them desirous to follow anybody. 

Mr. Clay believed the times were ripe for another great 
compromise like that of 1820. One day toward the close 
of January he rose from his chair in the Senate Chamber, 
and, waving a roll of papers, with dramatic eloquence and 
deep feeling announced to a hushed auditory that he held 
in his hand a series of resolutions proposing an amicable 
arrangement of all questions growing out of the subject of 
slavery. 

Read and explained by its author, this plan of compro- 
mise was, to admit California, and to establish territorial 
governments in the other portions of the region acquired 
from Mexico, without any provision for or against slavery, 
to pay the debt of Texas and fix her western boundary, 
to declare that it was "inexpedient" to abolish slavery 
in the District of Columbia, but expedient to put some 
restrictions on the slave-trade there, to pass a new and 
more stringent fugitive slave law, and to formally deny 
that Congress had any power to obstruct the slave-trade 
between the States. 

His speech was by turns impressive and courtly, im- 
perious and sarcastic. He dwelt with pathos upon the 
country's "bleeding wounds " which he proposed to stanch. 

The Senators listened in silence. Most of them were 
desirous of some compromise that would "finally settle 
the slavery question," but very few were disposed to 
accept this one in its entirety. The proposed admission 
of California and the abolition of the slave-trade in the 
District of Columbia were distasteful to the Southern 
Senators, while the assumption of the debt of Texas, the 
quasi opening of the Territories to slavery, and the proposed 
Fugitive Slave Law were equally objectionable to Northern 



Washington in '49 and '50 75 

ones. So began the long debate, lasting through winter, 
spring, and summer. 

Meanwhile the newspapers and letters from constitu- 
ents showed that elsewhere, as well as at the Federal 
capital, the proposed Compromise was an engrossing topic. 
Meetings were held in support of it. State legislatures 
took ground for and against it. Absurd rumours found 
credence in the lobbies. One day there was an alarm 
that the House of Representatives was "to be broken up 
by Southern men coming armed for contest." The next, 
the story was that there would be "no shooting," but that 
the Southern members "would withdraw in a body." 
California contributed to the excitement. Her new con- 
stitution was received, published, and commented upon. 
Dr. Gwin and Colonel Fremont, whom she had chosen as 
her Senators, were announced to be on their way to 
Washington. 

Each of the leaders in Senatorial debate felt that the 
hour had come for him to define his position. Mr. Bell, 
of Tennessee, introduced a new series of resolutions, 
similar in principle but differing in detail. 

Mr. Calhoun, though in failing health, obtained the 
floor for a speech. Everybody awaited it with great in- 
terest, regarding him as the acknowledged exponent of 
Southern opinion. He had already said briefly, in solemn 
tones, that he had "long laboured faithfully to repress 
the encroachment of the North," that he "saw where it 
would end, and now despaired of seeing it arrested in 
Congress." "What the South will do," he added, "is 
not for me to say. They will meet it, in my opinion, as 
it ought to be met." 

When he rose to speak on the 4th of March, an expect- 
ant throng filled the Senate Chamber. His gaunt figure 
and emaciated features attested that he had risen from a 
sick bed ; but his fiery eyes and unshaken voice showed he 



76 Washington in '49 and '50 

had no intention of abandoning the contest. In a few 
words he explained that his health would not permit him 
to deliver the speech he had prepared, but that "his 
friend the Senator behind him [Mason] would read it for 
him." Beginning by saying that he had believed from 
the first that "the agitation of the subject of slavery" 
would probably end in "disunion," the speech opposed 
Clay's plan of adjustment, attacked the President's plan, 
adverted to the growing feeling at the South that it could 
not remain in the Union "with safety and honour," 
pointed out the gradual snapping, one after another, of 
the links which held the Union together, and expressed 
the most gloomy forebodings for the future. When he 
closed, the general feeling in Washington was that it was 
Calhoun's last speech, and that it had rung the knell of 
the Union. 

Three days later a similar or greater throng gathered 
to hear Daniel Webster's great "7th of March speech," 
which has ever since been regarded as marking a distinct 
era in his Hfe. When he rose from his seat, in the middle 
of the Chamber, wearing his customary blue coat with 
metal buttons, he stood grave and sombre as a sphinx. 
He was listened to with eager curiosity. There had been 
much uncertainty as to his probable course, and his con- 
versation had been reticent and guarded. He began 
slowly, calmly, almost judicially, without a gesture or 
movement for several minutes. Then, growing slightly 
more animated, he drew his hand out from his breast to 
emphasize a sonorous utterance. He was, as always, 
clear and powerful. His words, while they disappointed 
thousands of his friends at the North, lent new vigour 
to the "Compromisers," with whom, it was seen, he 
would thenceforth act. Washington society was delighted 
to gain such a champion, but as one of his colleagues 
cynically remarked: "Wait till you hear from Boston." 



Washington in '49 and '50 'j'] 

On the nth of March, my father had the floor. There 
was no uncertainty about the position of "the ultra 
Senator from New York," who was deemed the head and 
front of the unpopular anti-slavery minority. No crowd 
filled the galleries, and there was but a slim attendance 
of Senators, though many of the newly elected Represen- 
tatives came over from the other chamber to listen to him. 
The speech was elaborate and one of his best. He ad- 
vocated the immediate admission of California, and the 
abolition of slavery in the District of Columbia, denounced 
the proposed fugitive slave law, and called up a picture 
of what would happen when the projectors of disunion 
should come to draw the lines of their new "republic of 
the South." He told them it would entail border warfare, 
stoppage of trade and travel and social intercourse, fami- 
lies and kindred separated and converted into enemies, 
new and onerous taxes and conscriptions to maintain an 
army and navy "under the new and hateful banner of 
sedition"; and all this done to secure the institution of 
African slavery. He said the question of dissolution 
embraced the fearful issue whether the Union should 
stand and slavery be removed by gradual, peaceful effort, 
with compensation — or the Union be dissolved, ^' and 
civil war ensue, bringing on violent hut complete and 
immediate emancipation^ He closed by saying that 
the Union would survive even such a conflict — that it was 
the creature of necessities, physical, moral, social, and 
political, and "endures because some government must 
exist here and no other government but this can." 

Every morning's mail now brought a pile of criticisms 
and commendations upon this speech from far and near. 
Warm, enthusiastic, and grateful letters came from the 
Pacific Coast. The boldness of its dissent from such 
honoured leaders as Clay and Webster called forth the 
censure of many of his own party as well as of the other. 



7^ Washington in '49 and '50 

His vivid description of what a civil war in the United 
States would be — and his prediction that it would inevita- 
bly bring sudden and violent emancipation, attracted less 
attention from either friends or foes than might have 
been expected — perhaps because neither of them, at that 
period, were disposed to believe that such events could 
actually happen. 

Those who were seeking for a vulnerable point for 
attack in his argument thought they had found one in 
his declaration that the fugitive slave law was not only 
in contravention of the Constitution, but also of the higher 
law of justice and humanity. This mention of a "higher 
law" was denounced as certainly treason and little short 
of blasphemy. It was held that no law could be higher 
than the Constitution, even those of the Almighty, — for 
every good citizen was bound to obey the one; while the 
other he could think as he pleased about. The phrase 
"higher law" became a byword of political reproach and 
a theme of religious discussion. Press and pupit through 
the country divided in opinion over it. It was pronounced 
pernicious, immoral, and wicked. It was declared to be 
moral, philosophic and Christian. Nearly every public 
man of prominence found himself called upon to state 
what his views were in regard to the relative obligation 
of divine and human laws. Even those who disliked the 
provisions of the Fugitive Slave Law were required to 
say that it should be obeyed "because it was law," and 
also because it would please the South. Of course views 
varied with varying minds and tempers. 

Beginning with criticism by the cautious, the debate 
ran into rancorous and abusive epithets by the zealous 
and violent. The phrase was repeated and quoted so 
often that it became associated with my father's name, 
and with that of his party. The wordy storm raged for 
months, and was not forgotten during his lifetime. Yet 



Washington in '49 and '50 79 

the most rancorous of his critics were all the while declaring 
that the right of disunion and secession was considerably 
"higher" than any constitution ever made. 

Colonel Benton spoke more than once in the long de- 
bate. His commanding personality, his originality and 
independence, and his incisive sarcasm always secured 
attention. Although representing a slave State, he had 
no sympathy with disunion, and not much with the "Com- 
promise" proposed to avert it. He moved to take up and 
pass the California bill without regard to other measures. 

General Cass and most of the other Northern Senators 
followed the lead of Clay and Webster. There were only 
three anti-slavery dissenters, Seward, Hale, and Chase. 

A select "Committee of Thirteen" was appointed, 
having six Northern Senators and six Southern ones and 
one to be chosen by the twelve. To this committee the 
resolutions were referred, and it was expected to mature 
some scheme that should solve "all pending differences 
growing out of the institution of slavery." Clay was 
chairman, and Webster, Cass, Bell, Dickinson, Berrien, 
Mangum, and Mason were among the members. 

The death of Calhoun and the funeral honours to his 
memory occasioned a pause, but only a brief one, in the 
engrossing debate. 

Winter passed away. Spring buds and blossoms came, 
and the hot summer sunshine began. But there was 
no talk of adjournment. Not only Congress but the 
country was absorbed in the great debate. Newspapers 
throughout the land were teeming with it. In May the 
Committee of Thirteen reported a scheme, embodying 
substantially all of Clay's propositions with the addition 
of one to make Utah a distinct Territory. This compound 
legislation soon gained the popular nickname of "the 
Omnibus Bill." 

It proved an unwieldy vehicle, as it rumbled on through 



8o Washington in *49 and '50 

more speeches and more debates, with an occasional test 
vote on some minor point. 

On the Whig side, Senators Upham and Truman Smith 
took ground against it. On the Democratic side. Sena- 
tors Douglas, Morton, and Shields said it would be de- 
feated as a whole, but most of its measures might be 
taken up and passed separately. John Bell's speech was 
able and scholarly, and intended to be impartial, but 
seemed not even to satisfy himself. On the first day of 
its delivery, people in the galleries said, "Bell is for it." 
On the second day they said, "Bell will vote against it." 
On the third that he "cannot make up his mind," 

My father made a second speech, in which he described 
"the Slaveholders' Dream" — a dream of new States sur- 
rounding the Gulf of Mexico, combined with the old slave 
States and constituting a vSlave Empire with its metropolis 
in the Crescent City. This, he said, was woven of "the 
stuff that dreams are made of," and yet "nothing seems 
impossible to the slaveholders, after the advantages they 
have already gained." 

As the summer wore on, Mr. Clay began to look wearied 
and haggard and to betray impatience and temper. The 
fiery sun beat down each day more pitilessly on the hot 
Capitol and its heated orators in the two chambers. 

One of the recreations of Washington society was to 
gather in the grounds of the Executive Mansion, to sit 
in the shade and fan themselves, while listening to the 
strains of the Marine Band. 

One Saturday afternoon, my father and I strolled from 
there across Lafayette Square, to call on Mr. Clayton, 
the Secretary of State. He received us with hearty South- 
ern hospitality. His sideboard with decanters and 
glasses stood in the front hall, and every visitor was in- 
vited to refresh himself. He was tall, sturdy, white- 
haired, and of very genial presence. 



Washington in '49 and '50 81 

In his easy chair, glass in hand, he gave us the latest 
gossip of the executive circle. The President was not 
going to budge from his position. The Queen of England 
was going to approve the Clayton-Bulwer Treaty, whether 
Nicaragua liked it or not. Sir Henry and Lady Bulwer 
were going to Staten Island for the summer, and later 
would receive higher diplomatic rank. The Queen of 
Spain wanted pay for the Amistad slaves, liberated by our 
Supreme Court. She would not get it. The King of the 
Sandwich Islands had sent his two sons to visit the United 
States, in charge of a missionary. Rev. Dr. Judd. They 
were educated, erect, graceful, and were royal princes. 
Washington society was disposed to adore their rank, 
but balked at their complexion. It was feared they might 
be "black." Most of the diplomats were out of town. 
Most of the Congressmen wanted to be, but couldn't. 
The South American republics were having their usual 
revolutions — none very sanguinary, but generally all 
ending in the dictatorship of some general. 

The Secretary talked thus of the world's governmental 
problems with the freedom and ease of an expert chess 
player about the moves of a game. His conversation was 
a reminder that ' * there are more things in heaven and earth ' * 
— besides Congressional debates. 

As had been foreshadowed, the "Omnibus Bill" was 
defeated as a whole, but the several measures composing 
the "Compromise" were taken up separately, and fresh 
debate on each ensued. In this complex contest the House 
of Representatives, the State legislatures, and the news- 
papers were now taking active part. 

It had long been a custom at the Academy of the Visita- 
tion at Georgetown to ask the President to come as an 
honoured guest to the annual exercises, and bestow the 
prizes upon the members of the graduating class. General 
Taylor complied with the invitation, but the day proved 



82 Washington in '49 and '50 

very hot even for July. Returning much heated and 
fatigued to the White House, he ate freely of cherries and 
drank freely of milk. This was believed to be the incip- 
ient cause of an illness, news of which now alarmed the 
capital and the country. A long line of anxious in- 
quirers besieged the doors of the White House. 

A few days later it was announced that the physicians 
had given up hope. On the morning of the loth, those 
who lived near the Executive Mansion were awakened by 
the solemn tolling of the bell on the old State Department. 
The dreaded calamity had happened. It was the second 
of that series of events, each of which has made an epoch 
in the history of the country. 

There is always deep and sincere grief in Washington 
over the death of a President. Many have become his 
personal friends and admirers. Many more have been 
building hopes and aspirations upon his continuance in 
office. Then follows a brief period of curiosity and appre- 
hensions in regard to the probable policies of his successor. 
Gradually the country settles down to acceptance of the 
inevitable, in accordance with the ancient maxim, "The 
King is dead, long live the King!" 

Vice-President Fillmore proceeded to the House of 
Representatives, and there took the oath of office without 
any ostentatious ceremony. 

When it was announced a few days later that the new 
President had invited Mr. Webster to become his Secretary 
of State, and that the invitation had been accepted, it 
became evident that the new Administration would dis- 
card "General Taylor's Plan," and instead would cast 
its influence in favour of "Clay's Compromise." The 
Compromisers themselves had almost lost heart when 
they found the Compromise had failed in its entirety, 
but they were now inspired with new zeal by the belief 
that it could be taken up and carried through piecemeal. 



Washington in '49 and '50 83 

The tone of Congress began to veer, especially as the 
press and the country seemed to grow weary of the strife, 
and ready to accept any panacea that time-honoured 
leaders assured them would "finally settle the slavery 
question." 

Looking down from the galleries, I saw the closing 
scenes of the great drama pass in rapid succession. The 
California Bill was taken up. Attempts were made by 
its opponents to remand her to a territorial condition, 
or to remit her constitution to a new convention, or to 
cut her in two by the line of 36° 30'. When these had all 
failed, she was at last admitted. The Senate doors opened 
and Dr. Gwin and Colonel Fremont entered to take their 
seats as Senators, amid much handshaking with their 
friends. 

The other measures were ordered to their third reading. 
My father made a last attempt for emancipation in the 
District of Columbia, but of course his amendment was 
voted down, and slavery was left undisturbed there, 
except that the slave-trade was restricted. New Mexico 
and Utah were organized into Territories open to slave- 
holders. The ''Texas Boundary Bill" was passed, taking 
ten million dollars from the Treasury to pay off the dis- 
credited "Texas scrip," large amounts of which were said to 
be in the pockets of members of Congress and their inti- 
mate friends. The "Fugitive Slave Law" was rushed 
through. 

I happened to be in the Congressional Library that 
morning, when I saw many Northern members coming in, 
one by one, and aimlessly strolling about. Inquiring of 
one what was going on in the House, I was told that the 
Fugitive Slave Law was about to be voted on. These 
were the "dodgers," who did not want to vote for it, nor 
dare to vote against it. 

I hurried over to the House gallery, in time to find 



84 The " Evening Journal " Office 

Thaddeus Stevens on his feet, and sarcastically moving 
that the Speaker might "send one of his pages to inform 
the members that they can return with safety, as the 
slavery question has been disposed of!" 

1851. 

The "Evening Journal" OflSce. A rather unpretend- 
ing three-story brick building stood on the north side of 
State Street in Albany, about halfway down the hill, on 
the corner of James Street. This was the office of the 
Albany Evening Journal, a paper of wide political repute, 
and whose editor-in-chief was Thurlow Weed. All agreed 
as to Mr. Weed's sagacity and shrewdness, however they 
might differ as to his course. He was popularly regarded 
as a "Warwick the King Maker," who moved party mag- 
nates like chessmen, elevating or putting down legislators. 
State officers, governors, and even presidents. He was 
still in his prime, though his head was beginning to grow 
grey, and his shoulders to stoop a little. 

After my admission to the bar I had entered upon the 
practice of the law. But a few months later I received 
an invitation from Mr. Weed to come and try my hand, 
for a time at least, in journalism. 

The winter of 1 851-1852 found me installed in the edi- 
torial room as one of the assistants. Everything there 
was simple, plain, and businesslike. Our editorial furni- 
ture consisted merely of a table, a chair, an inkstand and 
pair of scissors for each, and a shelf or two of books of 
reference, besides piles of exchange papers everywhere. 

Adjoining this room was the long one where the foreman 
and compositors were setting type and making up the 
"forms," which were then sent down to the press-room 
in the basement. A counting-room on the first floor 
opened upon the street. 

Mr. Weed introduced me to my future associates. 



The " Evening Journal " Office 85 

George Dawson, long his trusted lieutenant, was the 
"managing editor." He sat by one window and my table 
was placed at another. John Ten Eyck, the " city editor," 
had a small room by himself. There were legislative and 
other reporters, and occasionally E. Peshine Smith or 
some other unattached journalist would be called in for 
editorial work. Visscher Ten Eyck and his nephew Philip 
had charge of the counting-room and the books. 

It was not a large editorial force, but a busy one. Giles 
Winne had for many years been the foreman in the com- 
posing room, and now his son, Jacob, reigned in his stead. 
Work began with the daylight, and continued with in- 
creasing activity until three, when the paper went to 
press. The scene of labour was then transferred to the 
press-room in the basement, the mail wagons, and newsboys 
in the streets. 

The work of the journalist, like that of the housewife, 
is never done, and I found that it was often necessary or 
wise to devote some evening hours to preparation of the 
matter for "tomorrow's paper." 

When I first took pen in hand Mr. Weed gave me 
two valuable maxims for my guidance: '^ First. Never 
write any article without some clear and definite point 
and purpose. Second. When written, go carefully over 
it and strike out every superfluous word or sentence, and 
then see how much you have improved it." As he re- 
marked: "People have to sit and listen to a sermon or a 
speech that may be full of rambling repetitions. But 
when they find the newspaper growing dull or tedious, 
they simply lay it down, and don't take it up again." 

Another thing that I speedily discovered was that there 
is little time in an editor's "sanctum" to study up a 
subject or to consult authorities. The editor, whether 
right or wrong, must be swift in decision and prompt in 
expression. His readers will be eager for any information 



86 The " Evening Journal " Office 

he can give them about the topic they are interested in 
today. But they care Httle about what happened day 
before yesterday, and less about his comments thereon, 
if deferred till day after tomorrow. Furthermore he is 
expected to know something about everything, to say 
why things happen, and who is to blame for them. Like 
every college graduate, I had fancied that I had accumu- 
lated a considerable amount of useless information on a 
variety of subjects. But I soon learned that any scrap 
of knowledge that I possessed on any subject was likely 
to come into unexpected need, some day or other. Report- 
ers sometimes carry this doctrine to such extremes that 
when they cannot get facts, they accept rumours and 
then invent details to embellish them. Even conjectures 
are only too readily believed when they are new. This 
was just the reverse of the rule I had learned in my law 
office, that "you must assert nothing that you cannot 
prove." 

As our staff was small, our work was not divided and 
apportioned, but was rather conducted on the plan that 
each was to give his aid wherever it was most needed at 
the time. So, within a few weeks, I found myself as- 
signed to proof-reading, reporting, news gathering, liter- 
ary reviewing, editorial writing, and general management. 
Either editor might any day find himself in sole charge. 
The first time that event happened to me the responsibility 
seemed oppressive. I felt as if the world would be out of 
joint if the Evening Journal should not get to press at the 
usual hour, through my labours, and the equally important 
ones of Jacob Winne, the foreman. 

There are many visitors each day at the editorial room. 
The throng included dignitaries of Church and State, 
members of the Legislature and Congress, State and city 
officials, political leaders, editors of other journals, popular 
lecturers, bankers, merchants, managers of institutions, 



The " Evening Journal " Office ^7 

hospitals, and places of amusement, each of whom had 
something that he wished to say, or to have said, in the 
Journal. This procession of visitors would be interesting 
and often instructive, if it did not continually interrupt 
editorial work; which must go on, for the press, like "time 
and tide," will wait for no man, and the JournaVs hour 
for going to press was 3 p.m. So I found it was necessary 
to acquire the arts of learning what was in a pile of papers 
by merely skimming through them, of getting at the heart 
of long disquisitions without reading them, and of writing 
on one subject, while asking questions or answering them 
about another. 

Mr. Weed was tall, active, and vigorous, an indefatigable 
worker in the ofhce and out of it. Although the Journal 
was only twenty years old, it was already a recognized 
political power in the State and the leading organ of its 
party. Desiring no official position for himself, he was 
regarded as the wise and disinterested adviser of all aspi- 
rants for place. Besides his reputation for political saga- 
city, he had won esteem as a public-spirited citizen and a 
philanthropist of wide though unostentatious benevo- 
lence. The word "boss" had not yet come into use as a 
designation for a political magnate, but his friends often 
spoke of him as "the Old Man" or the "Dictator," while 
his opponents described him as an arch-conspirator. 

So much about him the public could readily compre- 
hend. But there was another source of his power, less 
well understood. That was his control of public opinion 
through his influence with the press of the State. From 
natural sympathy as well as policy, he was the intimate 
friend and adviser of other journals and journalists. He 
was always ready to help them with material for their 
columns and aid in their business enterprises. Every 
county in the State had its local Whig journal at the 
county seat, whose editor looked to Thurlow Weed as his 



88 The '* Evening Journal " Office 

political guide and personal friend. His views were 
echoed and repeated, and when some important problem 
was under discussion, the Evening Journal would repro- 
duce and quote their editorials, to show their practical 
unanimity, on a page devoted to "The Voice of the Press." 

One of the natural results of this esprit de corps and 
friendly intimacy, was his thorough knowledge of edito- 
rial plans and projects. Very few changes of proprietor- 
ship and very few schemes for new newspaper enterprises 
were entered upon without previous consultation with 
him. When in the Presidential election of 1840 it was 
decided to start a Whig campaign paper called the Jeffer- 
sonian, Mr. Weed went to New York to look up an editor 
for it. He found a young man struggling with a not very- 
prosperous literary periodical. Earnest and industrious, 
of advanced opinions and somewhat eccentric habits, he 
possessed a philosophical temper and a positive genius 
for editorial work. This was Horace Greeley, who thence- 
forth became a frequent visitor to the Journal office and 
a warm friend of Thurlow Weed. The Jeffersonian was 
succeeded by the Log Cabin, and after General Harrison's 
election it developed into the New York Tribune, and 
entered upon its long and enduring career. 

Several years later, after I had become an assistant 
editor of the Journal, I was present at a consultation over 
the feasibility of establishing a new morning journal in 
New York. Charles A. Dana, then of the Tribune, and 
Henry J. Raymond, then of the Courier and Inquirer, 
had come to Mr. Weed to ask his advice and approval 
of such an enterprise. All agreed that no new journal 
could hope to compete with the Herald in the business of 
gathering world-wide news, or with the Tribune in advo- 
cating measures of progress and reform. But Raymond 
was confident that there was a field somewhere between 
the two, for a paper that would suit the taste of a great 



The ** Evening Journal" Office 89 

middle class of New York, conservative in politics, want- 
ing accurate news, rather than reforms or sensations, or 
gossip and scandals. The outcome of this conference 
was the starting of the New York Times, and the tall 
tower that stands today in Times Square is a monument 
to the wise judgment of its founders. 

How to get the busy New York public to turn aside 
from its accustomed papers long enough to buy or read 
the new newspaper was the next problem, Dana's opinion 
was that it should follow Weed's method of short, crisp 
editorial articles, keenly critical and yet humorous. His 
success, in after years, with the New York Sun exempli- 
fies what he had in mind. Raymond believed that the 
way to win public attention to a new paper would be to 
make it the special source of information on one great 
topic at a time, that might then be engrossing the public 
mind. This line of action he afterward pursued at the 
time of Kossuth's visit, and again in the investigation 
and pursuit of the Tweed Ring. The press like the drama 
must "hold the mirror up to nature," and reflect the 
temper of the time. 

Journalism I found a pursuit quite attractive, and well 
suited to my tastes and disposition. Political questions 
and contests had more interest for me than legal ones. To 
lead and rightly guide public opinion seemed to me the 
height of any reasonable ambition. I had no hankering 
for public office. Although only just arrived at the voting 
age, it seemed as if I had already had a lifetime of obser- 
vation of the working of the business of office-seeking and 
office-holding, and I had no desire to engage in that strug- 
gle. Public office I had been taught to consider a duty, 
to be neither sought nor shunned; I heartily agreed with 
that instruction, and intended to avoid, so far as possible, 
its lures, its responsibilities, and its inevitable unsatis- 
factory ending. So I was resolved that whatever public 



90 Editorial Topics 

duty I might be called upon to perform should not be of 
my own seeking. 

Editorial Topics. Looking now over the files of the 
Evening Journal of half a century ago, I note how topics 
have passed away or lost interest. Questions have been 
settled, opinions changed, things local and temporary 
have been relegated to oblivion. One can perceive the 
changes that have taken place in the country's history, 
as well as in the character of its journalism. If a contrast 
were to be drawn between the newspaper articles of that 
day and this, I should say the older ones had more of 
strenuous earnestness, and the later ones more of the air 
of judicial impartiality. 

My own editorials were numerous, the earlier ones 
crude enough — some well intended but based on mistaken 
premises — but some of the later ones containing forecasts 
since verified. 

There was no lack of topics for discussion and comment 
during the ten years I spent in the Evening Journal office. 
The foreign news, then received by steamer instead of 
Atlantic cable, brought many events of stirring interest: 
the revolutionary movements in European capitals; the 
Hungarian revolution and Kossuth's visit to America; 
the Crimean War; Louis Napoleon's coup d'etat; the war 
in Italy; the liberation of Venice and Rome; the doings 
of Garibaldi, Victor Emmanuel, and Cavour. 

Then there were the political movements in the United 
States: the Compromise and the Fugitive Slave Law; the 
Presidential campaign between Pierce and Scott; the 
gradual disintegration of parties; the "Old Hunkers" 
and "Barn-burners"; the "Hards" and "Softs"; the 
"Old Line Whigs"; the rise and fall of the "Know-noth- 
ing" or "Native American party"; the collapse of the 
Whigs; the rise of the Republican party and its progress 



A New Word 91 

throughout the Northern States; Douglas's Nebraska 
Bill and the repeal of the Missouri Compromise; the 
Presidential campaign between Buchanan and Fremont; 
the Dred Scott Decision and the claim of the extension 
of slavery to all States and Territories; the struggle in 
Kansas between the free-State settlers and the "Border 
Ruffians"; the appointment of Kansas governors and 
the application of Kansas for admission to the Union; 
the national conventions at Charleston, Baltimore, and 
Chicago ; the nomination and election of Lincoln and Ham- 
lin and the advent of the Republicans to political power — 
altogether an exciting series of critical events both at 
home and abroad. 

Chief among the topics of political discussion during 
the ten years prior to the Civil War, was the question of 
the extension of slavery. 

1853. 

A New Word. One morning my friend, E. Peshine 
Smith, who was a lover of linguistic and other historical 
problems, came into the Evening Journal office with a 
new suggestion. 

He said: "It is time that we invented a word to take 
the place of our cumbrous phrase, 'telegraphic despatch' 
or ' telegraphic message. ' Now that we have the telegraph 
we ought to have some shorter word to take the place of 
two long ones." 

"Well, what word do you suggest?" 

"Telegram. That is of Greek origin like 'telegraph' 
and is a perfectly proper derivative. Telegraph is the 
machine that writes. Telegram is the thing that it 
writes. It is analogous to 'epigram,' 'anagram,' and 
'monogram.'" 

"Well! let us try it in the Evening Journal today." 

So the new word was put forth. But individuals and 



92 A Thanksgiving Relic 

newspapers did not take kindly to it. They thought it 
looked queer, and was an affectation. Some said "tele- 
graph " was a good enough word to use. One or two news- 
papers followed the Journal's example, but the general 
public pooh-poohed it, and so the word fell into gradual 
disuse. 

Six months later, E. Peshine Smith came in again, tri- 
umphantly waving a copy of the London Times. 

"See here," said he; "the 'Thunderer' has got our word, 
and what is more, it applauds it as a very convenient 
abbreviation." 

I asked: "Does it call it an Americanism?" 

"No," said he. "Just uses it. Now we will see 
whether the papers here will take any more kindly to it, 
when it comes to us with a foreign stamp on it." 

And sure enough they did. "Telegram" came soon 
into general use, and is so still. 

I said to Mr. Smith: "It seems that a new word is like 
a new opera singer. She may have ever so good a voice, 
but she will not be appreciated, if bom in this country, 
until she has been to London and back again." 

A Thanksgiving Relic. Anniversaries and holidays 
were of course recorded in the Evening Journal with 
suitable editorial comments. Thanksgiving was espe- 
cially observed, and Mr. Weed, on that day, presented 
each one of his employees with a turkey for his family 
dinner. 

Thanksgiving, in those days, was a State and not a 
national festival. The governor of each State designated 
the day at his pleasure. Perhaps as an assertion of 
"State rights," these days were often of different dates. 
But it happened that in 1853 quite a large number chose 
the same date. 

I wrote an editorial article, on this occasion, for the 



A Thanksgiving Relic 93 

Journal. Then I heard no more of it for fifty-nine years. 
In 1912, I received a letter enclosing a newspaper clip- 
ping from my old friend Judge Nott, ex-Chief Justice of 
the United States Court of Claims. It ran as follows: 

"Princeton, June 19, 1912. 

" I have kept this tribute to Thanksgiving all these years ; 
and send it to you now, because I think that there is no 
one in the world who will appreciate its beauties so much 
as you, except me. 

" Do you remember it? I stand ready to bet that you 
have forgotten its existence. It is associated in my mind 
with two men, Mr. Blatchford and Mr. Weed. Mr. 
Blatchf ord read it and said : ' Weed, that is the very best 
thing of the kind that you ever wrote, or ever will write.' 

"Mr. Weed replied: 'Yes, that is very true, except that 
I did not write it, and Fred Seward did.' 

" The explanation of my having found it is that we are 
leaving Princeton and I have been through my packages 
of old letters and literary treasures and here is this one. 
I hope that you will appreciate it half as much as I do 
and (like me) wonder that you ever wrote anything so 
good. 

"C. C. N." 

(From the Albany Evening Journal, Nov. 23, 1853.) 

"THANKSGIVING DAY 

"Twenty-two States are to dine together tomorrow. 
The invitations have been out for a month. The dinner 
is given in honour of Connecticut, the oldest invited guest, 
who sits down to the anniversary feast for the hundred 
and fifty-fifth time. The table will be three thousand 
miles long — so there is sure to be room. New Hamp- 



94 A Thanksgiving Relic 

shire has agreed to preside, at the upper end, in a huge 
granite chair. The clergy of the Union will say grace 
two hours beforehand. Thirty-six thousand church bells 
have been arranged to chime the music. The viands will 
be various to suit all tastes — from ice at the upper end, 
to wines and fruits at the lower. But the majority of 
the guests will probably make their dinner of roast turkey 
and pumpkin pie, out of compliment to old Connecticut, 
the founder of the festival. 

" It must be a pleasant sight for her to see the whole 
family gathered around her table, with Uncle Sam, about 
halfway down, in the midst of them. The old fellow is 
pretty well in years now (seventy-eight last July) but 
still hale and hearty, thanks to an excellent constitution. 
Virginia, his eldest daughter (a well-meaning person, 
though with a deal of family pride, and very much given 
to talking about her son 'George,' for which, however, 
nobody can blame her), will have a seat at his right hand. 
Texas, a rough-and-ready sort of backwoodsman, has a 
place at the other end of the table, and will probably 
contrive to sit very close to Louisiana, one of the youngest 
and prettiest of the old gentleman's nieces. New York 
will be there as long as he can spare time ; but business on 
'Change will probably call him away by the express train, 
before dinner is over. Maine and South Carolina were 
too impatient to wait, and so they have been already 
accommodated at a side table. California (a stout little 
fellow, of three years, who, his elder sisters vow, is worth 
his weight in gold) is too young to come. 

"Of course, there have been idle stories in circulation 
about this family, as there are about all families, which 
this Gathering will do much to dispel. Some, for instance, 
have asserted that they were head over ears in debt, and 
so near bankrupt that they could not afford sugar in their 
tea. Uncle Sam will chuckle at them well when he pulls 



Albany Life 95 

out a surplus of $20,000,000 which he proposes to exhibit. 
Others, again, have privately hinted that Mississippi has 
applied for a divorce, and that she is going to run away 
with a worthless adventurer. But her presence at the 
dinner, smiling and contented, will pretty effectually stop 
that gossip. Others again, pretend that there is a deadly 
quarrel between New York, Virginia, Massachusetts, 
and two or three others. But you will see that they will 
be shaking hands over the dinner table before sundown. 
"The old folks will take great pleasure in talking over 
the days when they were young, and all thirteen of them 
lived together — down on the seashore. The young ones 
will, of course, be full of a thousand visionary schemes by 
which they think they are going to make a great noise 
in the world by and by. But, at any rate, they will all 
be the better for the old tales that will be told, the old 
jokes that will be made, and the old songs that will be 
sung, until late in the evening, when Hope and Memory 
(two old servants of this family who have done more to 
keep it together than any amount of compromises could) 
will light them all up to bed, and supply them with the 
material for their Thanksgiving dreams." 

Albany Life. Albany is proverbial for its hospitality 
— an inheritance from its old Dutch founders. Its im- 
portance as the State capital and a political centre drew 
to it, every winter, many persons of public distinction, 
and families of culture and refinement. My residence 
there was a pleasant one, and when I look back at it now, 
there come up memories of acquaintances that ripened 
into lifelong friendships, and events that it is a renewed 
pleasure to recall. 

At an evening party there I met a young lady just 
entering society, whose home was near the well-remembered 
scenes of " Kane's Walk." Talk of youthful remembrances 



96 An Albany Concert 

and congenial tastes soon led to mutual regard; and a 
year later, this resulted in our marriage — a union which 
has proved the chief element of my life's happiness — and 
which has long transcended the "Silver" and "Golden 
Wedding" anniversaries, both of which so many hope 
for, and so few attain. 

Daily observation and contact with the workings of 
the State government doubtless inspired the young men 
of Albany with more than ordinary interest in public 
affairs. I found my contemporaries alive to questions 
of State and national progress, ardent reformers, zealous 
for good citizenship; and yet with less of partisan bitter- 
ness than is often found in more isolated communities. 

My association with them, as well as my daily news- 
paper work, served to keep me in touch with public opin- 
ion, and to increase my faith in the belief that the world 
was gradually progressing. They honoured me with 
their confidence, choosing me to be their spokesman, or 
presiding officer, on occasions of importance, among them 
the demonstrations of sympathy with European struggles 
for liberty, the welcoming of Kossuth, the founding of 
the University and its branches, and the preliminary 
steps toward the formation of the Republican party. 

An Albany Concert. In those days, concerts and lec- 
tures were favourite amusements for Albany society. 
The list of lecturers comprised such names as Wendell 
Phillips, Henry Ward Beecher, Dr. Bethune, George 
William Curtis, George Sumner, Judge William Kent, 
John P. Hale, and others well known to fame. 

Among the concerts were those of the Hutchinsons, 
Dempster, Madame Bishop, Eliza Greenfield (the "Black 
Swan"), the Swiss Bellringers, Parodi, Piccolomini, and 
other operatic stars. 

One of these concerts was a notable one. Strakosch 



An Albany Concert 97 

and his wife, who was Amalia Patti, had brought with 
them Httle ten-year-old Adehna Patti, with her wonderful 
voice. Ole Bull was also of the troupe. 

Association Hall was packed with a great audience. 
All went well until about the middle of the evening 
when some hitch occurred. There was a long wait. 
Excited voices were heard from the little greenroom, just 
off the stage, apparently in dispute and remonstrance. 

After a while Ole Bull came out, and intimating there 
would be some delay, said that if the audience would 
permit, he would play something of his own, which was 
not on the program. Of course the audience approved. 

Remarking simply that it was a dialogue between a 
young Venetian husband and his wife, on their way to 
the Carnival, he raised his violin to his shoulder. 

The violin began softly, with the familiar strains of the 
Carnival of Venice, and then, with endless variations on 
that theme, proceeded to tell the story. We heard the 
young couple gaily chatting and laughing. The husband 
hummed a dancing tune, and the wife skipped along as 
an accompaniment. Then they united in a love song. 
Presently something was said that gave offence. There 
was a sharp rebuke. His tones became abrupt and gruff. 
Hers were shrill and defiant. The quarrel went on louder 
and louder. He scolded. She mocked and sneered. 
He stormed and swore. She wept and wailed and sobbed. 
But now they are at the door of the cathedral. The organ 
notes come pealing forth. They drop their voices. He 
softens his tones. She begins to plead and coax. Recon- 
ciliation and forgiveness follow. They enter the doorway 
and join in the Jubilate chorus that comes down from 
the choir above. 

Suddenly the music stops. Ole Bull is making a bow 
and retiring. 

We of the audience sit silent. Then presently we awake 
7 



98 Kossuth at Albany 

to a realizing sense that we have been Hstening to an 
entirely imaginary scene. There is no quarrel. There 
is no young couple^ — no Venice. The witchery of the 
violin has conjured up the whole scene before our eyes 
and ears. Now the spell is broken. Next moment we 
are all laughing at each other, and applauding Ole 
Bull. 

Then Ole Bull caps the climax by leading out the little 
girl — her eyes red with crying, but smiling through her 
tears, and ready to sing sweetly the little aria which had 
been assigned to her. 

Next morning, Strakosch came round to the Journal 
office and we congratulated him on the artistic triumph 
of the night before. 

"Yes," he said, "but think of the trouble I was in. 

That little d [he did not say "diva"] refused to sing 

unless she had a pound of candy. I had provided none. 
I rushed downstairs and out into the street to look for a 
confectionery shop. It was after nine o'clock and all 
were closed. Finally, on a side street I found an old 
confectioner, who lived over his shop. I persuaded him 
to come down and sell me a pound. Then I ran back, and 
found how good Ole Bull had saved the situation." 

Kossuth at Albany. Bells are ringing, whistles blowing 
and cannon booming. Flags are flying over streets and 
buildings. Among them our national colours predominate 
but here and there are also the Hungarian tricolour and 
the Turkish crescent. As we stand on the dock at East 
Albany and look across the river, the city seems to be in 
gala attire. His honour, the Mayor, with local dignita- 
ries and leading citizens, are gathered in a group that is 
awaiting the arrival of the train bringing the great Hun- 
garian. Behind them are the young men of the "Hunga- 
rian Liberty Association," of which I am the President, 



Kossuth at Albany 99 

William Barnes the Treasurer, and Rabbi Wise the 
Chaplain. 

The train rolls in, and is greeted with cheers; Kossuth 
presents himself, and descends from it. He looks digni- 
fied and impressive, with iron grey hair and full beard, 
as he bows courteously to the crowd. He holds in his 
hand the broad-brimmed soft hat, which is already the 
symbol of European revolutionists, and which is to be- 
come shortly the fashionable headgear in America, and 
is known as the "Kossuth hat." 

Some of his companions or staff officers wear a feather 
or a bit of gold braid on it, and in their costume are indi- 
cations of military rank, but most of them are in ordinary 
civilian dress. 

Interchange of greetings and introductions follow. 
Then all cross the river in a ferryboat. Landing near 
the Delavan House, we find an improvised procession 
waiting to escort him up State Street to the Capitol Hill. 

A crowd is gathered there also — too numerous to allow 
all to enter the building. So Governor Hunt comes out 
to the top of the broad steps, and gives his address of 
welcome, which receives suitable response. 

The national guest is lodged at Congress Hall, just 
adjoining the Capitol. After paying my respects to him 
and his companions, I visit a parlour where the represen- 
tatives of "the Press" are gathered. There I meet 
several acquaintances, among them James W. Simonton 
of the Times (and afterward head of the Associated Press). 
There is a busy rustling of pens and paper as they are 
preparing their notes of the day's proceedings. Two or 
three of them tell me that they are accompanying the 
"Governor," as they call him, in his whole tour through 
the States. They share in the popular enthusiasm, which 
they are so busily engaged in creating, and speak of him 
in terms of warm affection, recounting instances of his 



100 Kossuth at Albany 

tact, address, and fascinating eloquence. He is always 
affable, yet on the whole his manner is grave and sad, 
as it well may be, after his experience of the rise and fall 
of "the Hungarian republic." 

Our American people have always been interested and 
warmly sympathetic with any European nation which 
they believe to be struggling against despotism; and 
especially if it announces its desire for republican govern- 
ment. The Greeks, the Poles, the French, the Italians, 
the Spanish have, in turn, received demonstrations of our 
sympathy, and some of our more impulsive leaders have 
urged us to go to war in their behalf. 

Of Hungary and the Hungarians we had known but 
little, until the wave of revolutionary outbreaks began to 
sweep over the continental nations in 1848. But now the 
newspapers and speakers are eagerly read or listened to, 
when they try to familiarize us with hitherto unknown 
localities and unpronounceable names. They awaken 
our admiration for military heroes and eloquent orators, 
who, like ourselves, are advocating "Freedom." 

Kossuth's romantic story and his unavailing struggle 
against the Austrian and Russian Empires appealed 
strongly to the people of the United States. His imprison- 
ment, escape and exile, the refuge and shelter afforded 
him by the Turks, his rescue and voyage to us in an Ameri- 
can frigate, the popular outburst of welcome that greeted 
him in New York and other cities, the honours extended 
to him at Washington and the State capitals, have carried 
the popular enthusiasm to fever heat, and he is the hero 
of the hour. 

Even after the Hungarian Republic had become a dream 
of the past, and the Hungarians had divided into varying 
political groups, finding peace at last under the Iron Crown 
of the Dual Empire, a permanent impress had been made 
upon America by Kossuth's visit and his eventful tour 



Kossuth at Albany loi 

and his appeals for "material aid" for Hungary. Hun- 
garian hats, Hungarian wine, Hungarian bands, Hungarian 
music and dances began to come in vogue. Hungarian his- 
tory is to be studied. A steady flow of Hungarian im- 
migration has set in, which still continues and is adding 
to our complex nationality, which absorbs and assimilates 
so many diverse elements. 

In his subsequent visits to Albany, although there is 
no longer such a rush to see him, yet the desire to hear 
him is unabated. Halls and churches are crowded when 
he is to speak. Our society gives him a welcome in the 
Young Men's Association Rooms. The tickets of admis- 
sion are little red, white, and green cards, the Hungarian 
tricolour. All these are sold, and several thousand dol- 
lars are raised as a contribution to the fund for "mate- 
rial aid" for the revolutionists. 

He is singularly fluent, with hardly a trace of accent, 
though occasionally a quaint idiom or phrase reminds the 
hearer of his foreign birth, or his Shakespearian studies. 
He is ready and effective in illustration. At one meeting 
he was repelling the charge that he was the arch-agitator and 
responsible for all these revolutionary outbreaks in Europe. 
"No," said he, turning toward the great clock that hung 
on the wall behind him. "No, I am only like yonder 
clock. I tell the hour; I make not the time." 

Since 1848, European affairs had been arresting Ameri- 
can attention. Now the news of Louis Napoleon's coup 
d'etat, its details, and its probable results are eagerly 
studied. Kossuth is felt to be a representative of Euro- 
pean republicans, and the demonstrations in his honour 
are expressive, not merely of sympathy for the Hunga- 
rians, but of protest against despotism everywhere. 

In April, after a trip to the South, he returns to Wash- 
ington. A letter from my mother to her sister describes his 
social experiences, and a visit with him to Mount Vernon. 



102 Kossuth at Albany 

At that period, the neglected grounds and dilapidated 
buildings and fences there were beginning to call for 
public attention, but no governmental action had yet 
been taken for their preservation. 

"Washington, 17th April, 1852. 

"The Kossuths have come and gone. When they left 
us before, Kossuth was the orator who won our hearts 
by his genius. He was surrounded with a large suite of 
followers, who seemed to regard him as a superior being. 
He had hope and confidence in the professions of men who 
had power to assist him. His rich habiliments attracted 
the gaze of the multitude. He was going to make new 
friends. 

"He returns from the South where he has met little 
favour, to the politicians of Washington whose favour has 
grown cold, with his hopes diminished, his followers re- 
duced from seventeen to four, his own dress even changed 
with the change of his prospects. The Kossuth who has 
left us today is a gentle, brave man who will toil on for 
Hungary. 

"Monday Evening. 

" Mesdames Kossuth and Pulszky came to see us. They 
said they had thought a great deal about us while at the 
South and Madame Pulszky added in a whisper, 'We 
think you are right about slavery. ' 

"Thursday evening was our dinner. We had, as usual, 
a singular combination of ultra-Southern men, 'Free- 
Soilers,' and Democratic members of Congress. Messrs. 
Mangum and Hale of the Senate, Mr. Fisher, editor of 
the Southern Press, Mr. Morehead, of North Carolina, 
and New York members. A very sociable time they 
had. 

"Kossuth sat on my right and Mr. Morehead on my 



Kossuth at Albany 103 

left. Kossuth did not talk much, and when he did ad- 
dressed his conversation chiefly to me. Mr. Fisher, who 
is called a 'disunionist, ' said, across the table, * Governor 
Kossuth, don't you think that some portion of the human 
family is decidedly inferior to the others?" 

"Kossuth replied with his usual gentle gravity: *If 
that is the case, I think it should teach us humility, and 
make us more strenuous in our endeavours to assist the 
weaker portion. * 

" Mr. Fisher then alluded to the African race. 

"Kossuth disclaimed any particular allusion to them, 
but said he spoke for the oppressed generally. 

"It was nearly eleven o'clock when our guests departed, 
previous to which Henry had arranged that we and Mr. 
Fisher should accompany the Governor to Mount Vernon 
the next day. 

" So at nine o'clock we all met on the wharf with nearly 
a hundred other persons going in the same direction. 
Madame Pulszky, who is a very charming person, was not 
well enough to go. Madame Kossuth summoned up reso- 
lution to go without her interpreter. I was glad to see 
her once alone. She has learned a little, very little, 
EngHsh, which with the little French I could command 
enabled us to have some conversation. She looked very 
pretty with her white muslin bonnet and green veil. 

"We soon arrived at Mount Vernon. Mr. Fisher went 
up to the house to propitiate the proprietor, while we went 
to the tomb. Kossuth took the arm of his wife and went 
with her to the door of the vault. 

"They were considerably in advance of us, and when 
we came up, they were both coming away, with tears 
streaming from their eyes. Madame was more excited 
than I had ever seen her. She caught me by the arm and 
hurried me back to the tomb talking French with great 
earnestness. 'It is tres triste,' as Madame said. 'It is 



104 Kossuth at Albany 

a shame,* said a rough-looking young man, *to leave him 
in such a place. ' 

"They invited our party to one room in the house 
which is not generally open to visitors. It contains the 
library of Washington, a plaster bust, and some family 
pictures. Washington's large Bible was on the table. 
The books were mixed up with many others of modern 
date. I could not but remark that most of the old library 
was the counterpart of our father's. 

"It seemed difficult for Kossuth to make up his mind 
to go, but again the bell summoned us to the boat, and 
we joined the other passengers. 

"Thomas, who had all this time been perambulating 
the grounds with a basket of provisions which we brought 
from home, now spread some napkins on some chairs and 
produced the cold ducks, bread and butter, oranges, and 
champagne. As there were only plates sufficient for 
the ladies, Kossuth, Henry, and Mr. Fisher took theirs in 
their fingers, so we made a picnic. We were joined in 
this by young Calhoun, son of John C. Calhoun, a very 
gentlemanly and agreeable person, who was one of the 
passengers. 

"Had not the Kossuth party absorbed us so much, 
we should have found other interesting company. There 
was Dr. Bellows of New York, and his sister, and Grace 
Greenwood. We parted at the wharf intending to go and 
see Madame Pulszky in the evening. 

"We went to the National in the evening. Found 
Kossuth had gone out with the intention of coming to 
our house. I took my leave, promising to go to the cars 
this morning to say * good-bye. * 

"Madame Pulszky was still too ill to travel, I thought, 
but we found her at the depot this morning looking very 
ill, but going on, notwithstanding. 

"We had only time to take a hurried leave, a kiss from 



The Fugitive Slave Law 105 

the ladies and a warm grasp of the hand from the gentle- 
men, and they were gone. When and where, if ever, shall 
we meet again? 

"Mrs. Horace Mann, who had walked over to the depot 
with her little boys, was the only other person who came 
to pay them the compliment of taking leave." 

The Fugitive Slave Law. "The Slavery Question is 
settled!" Upon this the majority of each of the two 
great parties seemed agreed in 1851. Flags were hoisted, 
salutes fired, and meetings held in the large cities, where 
orators vied with drums and guns in loud congratulations. 

That the slavery question, which had threatened to 
disturb the national peace, was finally laid at rest many 
believed ; and many more who did not believe, deemed it 
politic and prudent to affect that they did. Engravings 
and biographies were published, testifying public grati- 
tude to the great patriotic "men who had saved the 
Union." Histories were written detailing how the great 
peril of disunion, imminent in 1851, was, in that year, by 
Congressional wisdom, happily ended for ever. Some of 
these volumes, still extant, were for years used in schools, 
teaching the boys lessons that they afterwards unlearned 
at the point of the bayonet. 

The Fugitive Slave Law was put in force, and announced 
to be "a, law of the land, to which every good citizen owes 
obedience." Hardly was the ink dry with which it had 
been signed, when slaveholders on the border who knew 
the whereabouts of their former "chattels" began to 
invoke its aid for their recapture. 

If the statesmen who adopted the Fugitive Slave Law 
as a panacea to repress the "agitation of slavery" had 
been seeking, instead, for one to inflame that "agitation" 
to its highest pitch, they could hardly have found a more 
effective instrument. It went through the land like the 



io6 The Fugitive Slave Law 

flaming war torch of the Highlands, summoning clansmen 
to battle. It roused even the apathetic and lukewarm. 
They might ignore slavery in distant territories, but here 
was a command to personally become slave catchers. 

It brought the slavery question home to every Northern 
hearthstone. Clergymen and lawyers who counselled 
"obedience to the law because it was a law" did not feel 
enthusiasm when called upon to take a hand in its enforce- 
ment. It was one thing to tacitly acquiesce in slavery as 
an inheritance from Biblical times and the mother country, 
and quite another to join in the chase with bloodhounds. 
It was one thing to stand and declaim about the "Com- 
promises of the Constitution," and quite another to deny 
the prayer of the trembling fugitive at the door for food, 
shelter, and escape. But the "Great Peace Measure" 
was relentless on this point. It commanded "every good 
citizen" to assist the deputy marshal in his slave catching 
whenever called upon, and imposed fine and imprisonment 
on him who refused to obey. 

Experience of the working of the Fugitive Slave Law 
was the first thing that opened the eyes of many to the 
discovery that possibly Governor Seward might be right 
in thinking there was some "higher law" to be obeyed 
than this brutal statute. 

Soon there was a fugitive slave case in New York, in 
which the poor man was seized while at work at his trade, 
hurried into a back room, tried in haste, delivered to the 
agent, handcuffed, and carried off to Baltimore, without 
opportunity even to say good-bye to his wife and children. 

There was a similar case in Philadelphia, and another 
in Indiana. 

Then came the spectacle of Henry Long, a captured 
fugitive, marched down to Jersey City ferry, under guard 
of two hundred policemen, amid a crowd of thousands. 

Ten days later it was announced that he had been 



The Fugitive Slave Law 107 

"sold at auction in Richmond for $750, to a Georgia 
trader, to be taken farther South," and that "there was 
great applause" at the sale. 

In another case in Philadelphia, a woman who had been 
twenty-two years free, and had five children, was arrested 
as a fugitive slave. 

At Columbia, in Pennsylvania, William Smith was 
seized as a fugitive, and while endeavouring to escape was 
shot, dying instantly. 

A kidnapper seized a free coloured girl in Nottingham 
and carried her off .to a Baltimore slave pen. A coloured 
man who went on there to testify to her having been born 
free and to her never having been a slave was found next 
day hanging dead, on a tree by the roadside. 

But of all these cases, none stirred the popular heart 
more deeply than those in which the national administra- 
tion took a hand to enforce the obnoxious law. At 
Boston, Shadrach, a coloured waiter, was seized, taken 
before the commissioner, and duly remanded to custody, 
when a crowd of coloured men rescued him, and sent him 
off to Canada. 

Thereupon the President issued a proclamation, com- 
manding all public officers and calling on all citizens to 
"aid in quelling this and similar combinations," and to 
"assist in capturing the above-named persons," in which 
business the Secretaries of War and of the Navy directed 
the army and navy to help. 

Later came the case of Sims, who, though defended by 
some of the best legal talent in Boston, was surrendered 
to his master, marched to the Long Wharf, in a hollow 
square of three hundred armed policemen, while the militia 
were posted in Faneuil Hall, chains stretched across the 
front of the State House, and the church bells tolled as 
for a funeral. 

Then there was the romantic story of William and Ellen 



io8 The Fugitive Slave Law 

Craft, escaped slaves from Georgia. Ellen, whose com- 
plexion was light, had dressed herself to personate a young 
planter, going north for his health, attended by William, 
who personated a family servant, greatly devoted to his 
young master. When the slave catchers tracked them 
to Boston, Rev. Theodore Parker gave them refuge in 
his house. He said: "For two weeks I wrote my sermons 
with a sword in the open drawer under my inkstand, and 
a pistol in the flap of my desk, loaded and ready for de- 
fence, until they could be put on board a vessel for Eng- 
land." 

There was a case in Chicago, another at Poughkeepsie, 
another at Westchester, and another at Wilkesbarre, each 
attended with circumstances that awakened popular 
detestation of what the newspapers called "Man Hunting 
on the Border." 

At Buffalo, Judge Conkling granted a writ of habeas 
corpus to an alleged fugitive. His counsel, Talcott and 
Hawley, moved his discharge for lack of evidence. It 
was granted, and in a few moments he was on his way to 
Canada. 

At Syracuse, Jerry McHenry was seized and carried 
before the commissioner, but a crowd surrounded the 
court-room, broke in the doors, rushed in, overpowered 
the officers, and rescued the prisoner. Among those who 
participated in this riot were Gerrit Smith, Rev. Samuel 
J. May, and other leading citizens. Eighteen of them 
were indicted, and summoned to appear at Auburn to 
answer for their offence. They were escorted by a hund- 
red of the prominent people of the place. Being required 
to give sureties, my father headed the list, which was soon 
filled with well-known names. 

At Christiania, in Pennsylvania, when the officers and 
slaveowner, with the commissioner's warrant, came to a 
house where a fugitive was concealed, they fired into it. 



The Fugitive Slave Law 109 

The fire was returned, the owner killed, his companions 
put to flight, and the fugitive escaped. 

The news of these seizures and conflicts alarmed all 
fugitives, some of whom had been residing for years in 
supposed security in the free States. Canada was the 
only place of refuge, and they began to pour into it. They 
crossed at Detroit, and at Niagara, and at Ogdensburg. 
Of those in New England, some went up through Vermont, 
some fled to Maine and crossed over into New Brunswick. 
Settlements sprung up in Canada, composed of negroes 
escaped from slavery. The one at Chatham was espe- 
cially well known, and was a favourite point for those who 
fled from Kentucky, through Ohio and Michigan. 

It is to the credit of human nature, that few men were 
zealous in executing the Fugitive Slave Law, except those 
who were paid for it. Even those who thought it ought 
to be obeyed did not hurry themselves to obey it. Many 
such would give food and shelter to a casual coloured man, 
and even point out the road leading north, while prudently 
refraining from asking any questions that might prove 
embarrassing to both parties. Others devoted time and 
money to help the fugitives. Free coloured people in 
the Northern cities were especially active in this work. 

The mysterious rapidity with which fugitive slaves 
were smuggled through the States and "across the line" 
soon gained for the system the name of "The Underground 
Railroad." The passengers on that road increased every 
month; and its managers devised new facilities for travel. 
A poor wretch, with his little bundle, knowing nothing 
of his route, save that he must hide by day, and follow 
the north star by night, would find himself urged and 
helped forward by friendly hands, until he stood, without 
knowing how, on British soil. 

Sometimes they came in squads of four or five, or even 
a dozen. Stories almost incredible were told. One man 



no The Fugitive Slave Law 

escaped in a hogshead. One woman had come on in a 
box, and was nearly suffocated when it was piled among 
the merchandise on a wharf. One had come in the straw 
of a farm wagon; another by hanging on underneath the 
cars; several in the holds of coasting vessels. But the 
majority had fled on foot, looking hourly behind them for 
the master and his hounds, and before them for the north 
star and liberty. 

As the Evening Journal was the chief anti-slavery paper 
at the capital, we had many visitors and appeals for aid 
from "the Underground." Stephen Myers was a coloured 
man of some prominence, having been head waiter at the 
Executive Mansion, and chief steward on Hudson River 
steamboats. He was a frequent caller. 

One morning he slipped in mysteriously, and asked 
George Dawson and me to step out into the back passage- 
way of the office. There we found a dozen or more young 
coloured men, "lined up" against the wall. "These," 
said Stephen, pointing to them with pride, "all comes on 
last night, and all goes on to Canady this morning." 

Dawson, with mock seriousness, said: "Oh, boys, now 
don't you think you'd better all go back?" 

The grin of white teeth that flashed down the line 
showed that their perils had not dulled their sense of 
humour. 

One evening as I sat alone at work, in the editorial room, 
a tall, ragged black man came softly in, and holding out 
a dirty scrap of paper said: "Be this for you, Mas'r.^" 

I took it, and found it pencilled simply with the words: 
"Help this poor fellow along. He has his ticket." It 
was not signed, and was addressed merely to "Leonard," 
which someone reading it to him had mistaken for "Sew- 
ard," and so had directed him to my office. He was 
very reluctant to tell anything about his antecedents or 
his journey, but said "he was from Ole Virginny," where 



Van Zandt and "Uncle Tom's Cabin" in 

"some men" had put him on a boat, in which he came 
to New York. There "some more men" put him on 
another boat, in which he came to Albany. I told him 
I would show him the railroad station. 

"No, 'fore God, Mas'r, don't take me to no railroad 
here. Dey said dere might be marshalses watching at 
the station, and that I was to walk sixteen mile, to some 
place dey called Snackaday. Does yo' know de road to 
Snackaday, Mas'r?" 

I told him I would show him. So we walked up the 
hill, stopping to get him a bite on the way, and he started 
off on the Schenectady turnpike, which doubtless led to 
his destination. 

"Stephen," I inquired once of the Underground mana- 
ger, "where do you get these contributions from? I 
suppose you go to old Whigs and Republicans. Any 
Democrats?" 

"Why, Mr. Frederick," he answered, "some of the 
Democrats is my best contributors. They don't ask no 
questions neither, like Republicans does, about what I 
does with the money. The Judge says he's willing to 
help poor folks, but he don't want to hear no details." 

"So the Judge contributes, does he? But I suppose 
you don't go near the Deputy Marshal? It is his business 
to arrest fugitives." 

"That is just what he says to me, sir. He gave me a 
five dollar bill, and told me to keep out of his sight. Yes, 
sir, and I'se a-earning that money." 

Van Zandt and "Uncle Tom's Cabin." John Van 
Zandt, who lived not far from Cincinnati, was an old 
farmer, poor and uneducated, but honest, worthy, and 
benevolent. He had passed the earlier part of his life 
in Kentucky; and from what he had seen and heard there, 
had become a hearty hater of slavery. 



112 Van Zandt and "Uncle Tom's Cabin" 

The Ohio River was well understood by slaves to be 
the dividing line between bondage and freedom ; and many 
were led to cross that barrier by opportunity, courage, or 
despair. When any ragged trembling fugitive knocked 
at John Van Zandt 's door, it was not in John Van Zandt's 
heart to refuse him food, shelter, and help on his way to 
Canada. 

One night in April, 1842, nine poor wretches risked their 
lives in an attempt at liberty. Among them were a 
husband and wife, and three small children. They got 
across the river and as far as Walnut Hill, two miles 
beyond. Here they were met by John Van Zandt. He 
had been to the Cincinnati market, with a wagon load 
of farm produce, and was returning home. He heard 
their story, pitied them, told them to get into his now 
empty wagon, and decided to try to carry them toward 
Lebanon. At three o'clock in the morning the horses' 
heads were turned northward. One of the fugitives, who 
could drive, was intrusted with the reins; and the other 
eight huddled together in the wagon. 

But there was money to be made on the highways, in 
those days in Ohio, and plenty of enterprising knaves 
ready to turn slave catchers. Early in the morning a 
gang of this class met the wagon, about fourteen miles 
north of Cincinnati. They knew nothing; suspected 
everything. They were armed, and they at once seized 
and stopped the horses. Andrew, the driver, had just 
time to jump and run. The others were obliged to sur- 
render at discretion. Before long they were travelling 
back to slavery. 

A futile attempt was made to punish the slave catchers, 
by indicting them for kidnapping. But public sentiment 
was on their side, and they walked out of court with the 
proud consciousness that they had "upheld the Constitu- 
tion and laws," and made $450 by it. 



Van Zandt and "Uncle Tom's Cabin" 113 

Eight slaves had been recovered, but one had escaped. 
That "pound of flesh" was now to be exacted through 
the courts of the United States. Andrew's owner, Whar- 
ton Jones by name, brought suit against John Van Zandt. 

Salmon P. Chase became Van Zandt 's counsel. The 
case was tried before Judge McLean, at Cincinnati, in 
July, 1842. The jury brought in a verdict against Van 
Zandt for $1200 damages. A like verdict was rendered 
against him for $500 more, the penalty for violating the 
Fugitive Law of 1793. 

Motion was made for a new trial and arrest of judg- 
ment. The judges of the Circuit Court were divided in 
opinion upon questions stated in the argument, and the 
cause was carried to the Supreme Court of the United 
States. 

Van Zandt was poor, and could not meet the cost of the 
trial. But the case had begun to attract some attention, 
and a small amount was contributed by friends, though 
it proved not enough to cover the actual expenses of the 
case. My father was solicited to take part in conducting 
it, and cheerfully assented. Both he and Chase gave their 
services without compensation. 

In their arguments before the court, they took the 
ground that the law of 1793 was in conflict with the Or- 
dinance of 1787 under which Ohio was organized, and 
which enacted that slavery or involuntary servitude should 
never exist there. They held that the slave law was, so 
far as it affected the questions before the court, unconsti- 
tutional and void. 

With their usual grave deliberation the judges took the 
case under consideration. But when the decision was 
finally promulgated, it was against Van Zandt. Judg- 
ment for the penalty was entered against him in the court 
below. Impoverished and embarrassed by the long liti- 
gation, he never recovered from its effects. He died a few 



114 Van Zandt and "Uncle Tom's Cabin" 

years later, probably without ever dreaming that the 
whole system of law under which he suffered would so 
soon be swept from the statute book. 

When the "Compromise Measures" of 1850 were 
adopted by Congress, both the great parties formally 
gave them their approval in conventions, and the general 
public, weary of the long debate, acquiesced in them as 
being, however distasteful, at least a settlement of the 
long-standing controversy over slavery. Most of the 
measures were regarded with apathy if not approval, 
and with the hope of future peace between North and 
South. 

But there was one of them that speedily dispelled any 
such illusion. That was the new Fugitive Slave Law. 
It added new pains and penalties to the law of 1793, al- 
ready drastic enough; and it practically required every 
citizen to become a slave catcher, when called upon. 
Naturally, it raised a storm of indignation among the 
Northern people. Press and pulpit joined in denouncing 
it. Meetings were held to express abhorrence. Orators 
like Wendell Phillips anathematized it, and even the 
peaceful "Quaker poet" Whittier made it the theme of 
his impassioned verse. 

I Dr. Bailey, the editor of the National Era, an anti- 
slavery paper at Washington, of course devoted many 
columns to the subject. He asked Mrs. Harriet Beecher 
Stowe, already well-known in literary circles, to write 
something for the Era. 

The theme was one that appealed to her sympathies. 
Her residence in Cincinnati had given her an insight into 
life in the slave States, in contrast with the free ones. 
Accordingly she contributed a story about fugitive slaves, 
basing some of the scenes and incidents upon those of the 
Van Zandt case, and others upon those of the life of Josiah 
Henson. In the story she portrayed Van Zandt as " Hon- 



A Village of Louis XIV.'s Time 115 

est old John Van Trompe " and Uncle Si Henson as "Uncle 
Tom." The first chapters awakened interest, and created 
a demand for more. So Uncle Tom*s Cabin was evolved, 
running serially in the Era for several months of 1851 
and 1852. 

Then it was published in book form in Boston. Among 
its earliest readers, of course, were Mr. Chase and my 
father. The former, as he laid down the volume, said: 
"That book is Van Zandt's best monument." 

The publishers found the demand for the new novel 
steadily and rapidly growing. Every new phase of the 
political conflict over slavery added to the number of its 
readers. Soon it was read and talked of through all the 
North, and at last it began to be realized by the public 
that there was a romance destined to have world-wide 
fame, and to exert an influence upon history. 

1857- 
A Village of Louis XIV.'s Time. We are lying be- 
calmed in the August sunshine, off the Isle d' Orleans in 
the river St. Lawrence, which here begins to broaden out 
to the dimensions of an inland sea. Our craft is the 
schooner Enter ence, of Quebec, commanded by Captain 
Couillard de Beaumont. 

Until quite recently she was a fishing schooner, but is 
now promoted to the dignity of a gentleman's yacht. 
Under the judicious direction of our friend, Mr. Duns- 
comb, the Collector of the Port, she has been scrubbed up, 
repaired, partially painted, and fully equipped, manned, 
and provisioned for a voyage to Anticosti and Labrador. 
She is rated at thirty tons — not much, but Columbus 
discovered a New World in a vessel not much larger. 

She flies the British flag and has no other. She pos- 
sesses a compass, but no sextant or chronometer, her 
officers not being familiar with scientific navigation, but 



ii6 A Village of Louis XIV.'s Time 

depending on their native powers of observation to ascer- 
tain their position and reckoning. 

The crew consists of three, who share the work about 
equally between them. They are M. le Capitaine, M. 
Pilot, and cet homme. The latter is the one who is al- 
ways to blame, when anything is lost or goes wrong. As 
the Emerence has no cargo, they occupy the hold for their 
quarters. With them is John, the cook, who presides 
at the galley. He is able to fry the fish we catch, and to 
supplement them with slapjacks. 

In the cabin there are three of us, my father, my wife, 
and myself. The cabin is only twelve feet square, with 
four berths in it. A table, a lamp, some camp-stools, 
comprise the rest of the furniture, and there is room for 
no more. As the cabin has no windows, but gets air and 
light only from the hatchway, most of our time is spent 
on deck. 

Here we sit, chatting or reading, or studying the shore 
through the telescope lent us by the collector, with the 
help of the charts of the British Admiralty. 

The shore is a puzzling one. It does not seem to have 
towns, with stretches of farm lands between, as one might 
expect, but rather looks like one long line of little white 
houses, now and then thickening up around each church 
spire. Our sailors tell us of their names. Here is St. 
Valier, yonder is St. Michel, farther on is St. Pierre, and 
largest of all is St. Thomas. 

We decide to go ashore to inspect. M. le Capitaine 
and M. Pilot lower the boat and take the oars. Cet 
homme remains on board to watch the schooner. 

Arrived at the wharf, the puzzle begins to unravel itself. 
There is one long road, or street, or boulevard, running 
through all the villages. Along this road stand the farm- 
houses at intervals of perhaps one hundred to two hundred 
feet. 



A Village of Louis XIV/s Time 117 

But these long and narrow farms have a unique advan- 
tage. The family in each house enjoy the privileges of 
living both in the town and in the country at the same 
time. The owner may step out of his back door and walk 
a mile or two over his own domain, through his gardens, 
his fields, and his woods. Or, if he steps out of his front 
door, he is at once in town, within call of his neighbours, 
and within easy walking distance of shops, stores, offices, 
church, and school. His front windows look out upon 
the boulevard and the river. His back windows com- 
mand an unbroken landscape, all the way back to the 
mountains. 

Surely it was French ingenuity and taste that 
devised this simple plan of living at once en ville and 
dlacampagnel 

A quaint, old-fashioned inn, that looks as if it might 
have been transported bodily from Normandy, is near 
at hand. In the open doorway sits a comfortable looking 
dame, engaged in knitting, whose smile of welcome as 
we approach intimates that she is the hostess. 

In reply to our inquiry, she responds in the tongue of 
the seventeenth century that assuredly we may have din- 
ner, and fortunately it is at present the very hour. 

A glance into the spacious apartment, which is at once 
parlour, dining-room, and kitchen, shows us the pot-au-feu 
simmering in the great stone fireplace, and the table 
spread in front of it. Few modern hotels have such con- 
veniences for dining, and so close at hand. Under the 
windows the fruits and vegetables are growing, beyond 
is the well and the poultry yard, and beyond that is the 
St. Lawrence, stocked with the finest of fish. 

When oiu- repast of rural luxuries is finished, we inquire 
if any conveyance can be had for a drive. Madame 
thinks not. But yes, she has a nephew, a farmer living 
near, who has a horse which is old, but safe, and a cabri- 



ii8 A Village of Louis XIV.'s Time 

olet, which is so, also, and will enable us to view the 
voisinage. He shall be sent for. 

This is done, and presently Pierre appears, with the 
reliable vehicle. He takes us up and down the road, and 
proves a cheerful and voluble conductor. 

It is like one continuous village. Its different portions 
are named from their respective churches, but apparently 
there are no dividing lines to show how far each Saint 
claims jurisdiction. Pierre knows all the houses, and the 
names of their occupants — some of whom salute us from 
their vine-clad doorways. 

Yes, he and all the rest of them were bom here. Is 
there work for all ? Work — plenty of it, that goes without 
saying. He himself cultivates his terrain. His brother 
Auguste owns the schooner, which carries the produce and 
the fish to the market at Quebec. Others have their 
farms, their shops and offices. 

How about amusements? "Oh, at evening, all the 
world amuses itself after its own fashion. As may be 
seen, we live near our neighbours. We meet, we eat a 
little, drink a little. We sing, we dance, we play at games, 
we talk politique and hurrah for Papineau!" 

"Doubtless," he adds, "Madame and the Messieurs 
would like to see the church ? It is open all days, and the 
good Cure will be pleased to show it to them. A fine 
man — though he grows old, which is a pity." 

So we call at his study. The good Cure comes out, 
hospitably invites us to enter. He shows us the mediaeval- 
looking edifice, its altarpiece, statues, windows, and deco- 
rations, and tells us of their history, as well as that of the 
settlement and its people. 

In the time of Louis XIV. and Louis XV., these lands 
were granted to great Seigneurs, who enjoyed favour at 
Court. They held them, according to old French custom, 
as lords and owners of the soil. They brought out from 



A Village of Louis XIV.'s Time 119 

France peasants and artisans to become their tenants. 
The land was divided into these long, narrow farms, so as 
to accommodate as many as possible. 

All that is now changed, of course. The land-titles 
are now under the British common law. The inhabitants 
have multiplied, and own their homes. Villages have 
grown up. Manufactures and trade have come in. But 
the old subdivisions, to a considerable extent, remain, 
because they are found convenient, and sales are 
few. 

We tell the good Cure that it seems to us an ideal plan 
for a rural community, and ask if the inhabitants appre- 
ciate it. 

"Ah, yes, le bon Dieu has given them pleasant homes, 
and they are industrious, peaceable, and thrifty. We who 
are old know this, and are content to spend our lives here. 
But the young people! What would you? They must 
have change. They want to see the world and seek their 
fortunes. They go to Quebec, and Montreal, perhaps to 
Boston and New York, possibly to Paris, or to dig gold 
in California." 

And they come back? — "A few of them, but not 
many." 

Pierre then drives us on, past dwellings, shops, and ware- 
houses, and pauses before the doors of the Female Semi- 
nary, a modern building with modern improvements, 
which is under the charge of gentle-voiced, dark-robed 
Sisters, having their chief house in Montreal. 

They show us their airy and scrupulously neat rooms, 
and call up some of the pupils to display their proficiency. 
One bright-eyed girl surprises us by her brilliant rendering 
of Landing of the Pilgrim Fathers, accompanying herself 
at the piano. 

When we ask where she is from, she replies, "Boston." 

The Sister placidly remarks: "Yes, we have many from 



120 Anticosti 

the States, whose parents prefer our quiet ways and 
healthful climate, and the kind of training the girls receive 
here." 

Our last visit is at a stately mansion, the summer resi- 
dence of Colonel Tacher, a member of the Royal Council, 
whom we had previously met. He welcomes us with 
courteous hospitality, and gives us further information 
as to the origin and history of the province. When he 
learns that our destination is "Labrador," he laughingly 
remarks that we are more venturesome than most Cana- 
dians, in visiting that wild and far-away region, so little 
known save for its fish and furs. 

Once more on board the Emerence, we look back to 
the scene of Arcadian simplicity we have just left. One 
wonders that nobody has ever thought of adopting such 
a plan for some one of the villages we are constantly 
building in the United States. Our senior member says 
that the explanation is not far to seek. "These were 
Frenchmen, and we are Americans. They inherit habits 
that are the growth of centuries. We like to change ours 
every year or two. Fifty years from now, many of their 
characteristic traits will have passed away and they will 
be like the rest of the world." 

Anticosti. "Anticosti?" said the skipper, who was 
our guest, setting down his glass of Jamaica rum and 
water, "yes, I know it. Cruise all round it. Bad coast. 
Dangerous. Reefs and shallows everywhere." 

"Not an easy place to get to, then?" 

"It's a devilish sight easier to get to Anticosti, than it 
is to get away from it. Squalls and cross currents some- 
times get you ashore there before you know it. If 
you're out for pleasure, you'd better give Anticosti a 
wide berth." 

' ' Anybody living there ? " 



Anticosti 121 

"Nobody but the people at the wrecking station. 
They have to stay." 

"What is the interior like?" 

"Sort of wilderness or desert, I guess. The government 
leases the island out, though, to folks who want to hunt 
or fish there in summer. Lots of game there, they say, 
and shoals of fish." 

"Pretty good whaling ground in these waters, isn't it? 
Two came up close to our bows, one morning, and our 
lookout yelled, thinking they would stave us in." 

The captain of the whaler here joins in the dialogue. 

"Why, I struck a fine one a week or so ago out here 
a way, a big fellow, and then lost him." 

' ' How did that happen ? " 

' ' Sea was rough, and he ran away with so much of my 
line that it looked like he'd pull us under. Had to cut 
the line and let him go, and then had a two-mile piill back 
to the ship. I calculate he's floating around dead some- 
where, with my harpoon in him." 

"Think you killed him?" 

' ' I know I struck him good, and that harpoon's in him 
yet. Somebody will pick him up." 

"Who does he belong to, if he is found?" 

"He'll belong to me, if I can get a sight at him, and 
I'll prove it by my harpoon. If you happen to run across 
him on your cruise, you'll know him by that." 

This conversation takes place in August, 1857, at 
Mingan in Labrador. A week later, we have bid adieu 
to Labrador and its navigation and are slowly beating 
our way, against a head wind, up the St. Lawrence toward 
Quebec. 

Four days elapse with the wind still "dead ahead." 
Then suddenly it rises to a gale, and our captain decides 
to put about, and run before it for a harbour. 

We are swept back in an afternoon over the miles we 



122 Anticosti 

had so tediously gained, until at 7 o'clock in the evening 
we see before us a long blue line, which our seamen tell 
us is the dreaded coast of Anticosti, 

But the wind falls now, almost as suddenly as it arose, 
and we are left in a dead calm. We are powerless to 
reach an anchorage and have to lie outside all night, 
rolling in a heavy ground swell. 

In the morning the "head wind" rises again, but this 
time very gently and softly. Captain Beaumont thinks 
we may be able to get in far enough to find an anchor- 
age, and to replenish our water cask and supply of wood 
for the galley. 

"Is there any harbour?" 

"No good one, but this is Ellis Bay, which I know. It 
is where they have the wrecking station. The Emerence 
is light, with no cargo, and can make it." 

So we let the wind blow us where it listeth. Evidently 
we are to visit Anticosti, like some other folks, whether 
we will or no. The wind carries us smoothly over the 
quiet sea. The bay opens before us, broad and spa- 
cious and shallow. Skilful handling of helm and sails 
take us between reefs and over bars, although the sandy 
bottom sometimes seems to come perilously near our 
keel. 

We are still two miles from shore when Captain Beau- 
mont thinks it prudent to drop anchor. 

The scene looks wild and desolate. But there seems 
to be another vessel already at anchor in the bay — a 
schooner, rather larger than our own. 

The bay is semicircular and broad, surrounded by a 
sandy beach, interspersed here and there with jagged 
rocks. The woods come nearly down to the water's edge. 
Behind them rises a range of low hills. 

We conclude to row over to the other schooner, and to 
ask for some fresh cod, mackerel, or the like. On getting 



Anticosti 123 

alongside, we accost the prominent person on board, and 
ask him what his schooner is engaged in. 

"I am a Jack-of -all-trades, sir," he answers, "confined 
to no one thing." 

"Are you an American?" 

"No, I belong to the island." 

"Fishing for mackerel now, I suppose?" 

"No, I am the lessee of the island. I set out last week 
for Quebec, but on the way I fell in with a pretty large 
whale, and he being too heavy for my boat to manage, I 
towed him in here into shoal water, and am now cutting 
him up and getting out the oil." 

Sure enough, we can see a great, greyish mass lying 
close to the water's edge, and can discern figures of men 
moving actively over it and hacking at it. A strong, 
almost sickening greasy smell comes off from it, and the 
smoke is rising from several fires along the beach. 

As we row back, the lady member of our party remarks 
that this is probably our friend Captain Coffin's lost 
whale. We dissent but she replies that the proprietor 
of Anticosti took care to avoid claiming to have killed or 
even found the whale alive. But what do women know 
about whaling? 

A long pull across the bay brings us to the vicinity of 
the stranded leviathan. He is sixty-five feet long — ten 
feet longer than the Emerence. The extreme end of the 
tail is seventeen feet wide. The odour of the oil infects 
the atmosphere for a mile around it. A dozen persons 
are cutting the "blubber" into small pieces, from which 
the oil gushes out, and fills kettles, pots, and barrels. 
Nothing is heard, seen, touched, or smelt of that is not 
redolent of the great prize. 

We land at a respectful distance from the whale's 
carcass and endeavour to get "betwixt the wind and his 
nobiHty." 



124 Anticosti 

There are wooden signs along the shore for the benefit 
of castaways, which indicate the paths to the place of 
refuge. This is not far distant. It is a neat, substantial, 
but rough-looking wooden building, unpainted and without 
any attempt at architectural decoration. It has a good 
chimney, but otherwise might pass for a barn or shed. 

The keeper, a Canadian Frenchman, is gratified to 
find that we are not in distress, and need nothing, unless 
we can get a good "shore dinner." 

This he promises us, and says there is a room or two 
in the station fitted up with simple furniture, which are 
reserved for the use of hunters or visitors like ourselves. 

We promptly avail ourselves of these. Even such 
quarters look luxurious after the schooner's cabin. The 
bare board walls have been covered by the Frenchman 
with pages of the London Illustrated News, ingeniously 
pasted on, so that the lodger lying on the bed can see all 
the leading events of the world's history for the past year 
or two, spread before him like a panorama. 

Then we stroll out to look at the farm. There are fifty 
acres — the only land reclaimed from nature on the island 
of Anticosti. There is or was a potato crop, but it was 
bHghted by frost on August i8th. 

There is a suggestive feature about the door of the 
house. It is not near the ground, but high up, and en- 
trance to it is gained by a ladder. At night this ladder is 
drawn up, to prevent incursions by bears, wolves, and 
other midnight marauders. 

There are other lodgers in the house besides ourselves. 
The Frenchman refers to them as "the people upstairs" 
but does not mention who they are. Occasionally a lady 
appears in the balcony, or descends from it with her child- 
ren, and we soon come to understand that she is a privi- 
leged person. 

At length tea-time comes. The lady from upstairs is 



Anticosti 125 

introduced to us by the lessee of Anticosti as his wife, 
and here the patroon and his family spend the summer. 
He is a Scotchman, of pleasing address and well-informed. 
His wife is agreeable and ladylike. 

The conversation, of course, turns on the great prize. 
We cautiously tell him how Captain Coffin of Gaspe had 
called on us, at Mingan, to enquire about a whale that 
he had killed and lost, and we laughingly remark that 
some of us were simple enough to imagine that this might 
possibly be Captain Coffin's whale. 

He inquires the date of Captain Coffin's report, about 
the harpoon, etc., and very frankly and magnanimously 
says: "Beyond a doubt this is the very whale that he 
killed. We found it dead and horribly mangled by sharks. ' ' 

He has found nothing so far to show how it came to 
its death, but perhaps he may yet find the harpoon. 

In the course of the afternoon, the Frenchman informs 
us that he is going lobster fishing and asks if we would 
like to accompany him. 

"Where are we to go?" 

He points to a series of huge boulders in the water 
near the opposite shore, about two miles off. 

"Very well. How do we get there? Do we walk 
round on the beach?" 

"Oh, no,— ride." 

"Do we row out?" 

"Oh, no, we ride in a cart." 

"Which road?" 

"Right across through the water." 

See us then, we two travellers, our host, and a driver, 
embarked on the bay in a common cart, drawn by a strong, 
square-built black horse. On he walks, splash — splash — 
and we after him. He imderstands French well, and 
obeys all such commands as Allez done, and Marchez, 
but pays no regard to English. 



126 Anticosti 

At length we reach the fishing ground. Two great 
seals are mounted on the rocks, like sentinels guarding 
the entrance to the port. The Frenchman takes his stick, 
to which is attached a codfish hook, and proceeds to ferret 
out the lobsters in their retreats under the rocks. He 
finds one or two under every rock. They cling to the 
stones, or whatever else offers, so tenaciously that often 
their claws break off. The horse wades from rock to rock 
with patience, and in less than an hour we fill our basket 
with two dozen. 

Returning, we share our catch with the patroon's family, 
and in return they supply us with mustard, oil, and vine- 
gar for lobster salad, in which our ship stores are deficient. 

We spend the evening pleasantly with Mr. Corbet and 
his wife. He informs us further as to the tenure of his 
"Seigneury." In Canada, successive provincial legisla- 
tion, with the sanction of the Crown, has modified these 
"Seigneuries," so that, in that region, they have now little 
more than a nominal existence. 

But the "Seigneuries" of Labrador and Anticosti still 
remain. Those regions, not only being in a state of 
nature, but there being no desire anywhere to colonize 
them, because they are so inhospitable and barren, the 
"Seigneury " is at present valuable only for the chase and 
the fisheries ; and it might be made so for mines, forests, 
and minerals. 

The "Seigneurs" (successors to the old grantees) are 
understood to live at Quebec. They rent or assign all 
their privileges to assignees for terms of years, at fixed 
rates. The Hudson's Bay Company is the assignee of 
Labrador. Mr. Corbet is the assignee of Anticosti. He 
pays five hundred dollars a year for the whole enjoyment 
of that domain one hundred and twenty miles long by 
twenty broad, and he reimburses himself out of the fisher- 
ies, chiefly salmon and seal, and the chase, principally of 



Anticosti 127 

bears, sables, martens, foxes, etc. There is no government 
there; but for political purposes the territory is subject 
to the laws of Canada. 

Mrs. Corbet inquires if we do not find the odour of 
the whale almost unbearable, as she does. 

But Mr. Corbet holds up his hands and smiles. He 
says: "We are making money, my dear, making money." 

And so he undoubtedly is, this time. 

Another day, and at last the wind has "hauled round" 
to the south-east. We bid adieu to Anticosti and its 
kindly inhabitants, and in the evening set sail once more for 
Quebec. It is a soft, balmy, starlit night, with a gentle 
breeze wafting us on even keel over a calm sea. Our 
easterly wind next brings us its usual accessories of mist 
and fog. Three days elapse, in which the fog seems to 
grow denser. We seem to be moving in a magic circle 
of sea, perhaps two hundred feet in diameter. Above 
and below and all around is the fog, apparently moving 
with us. Nothing else is visible. 

Our whereabouts becomes a matter of guesswork. 
There are no landmarks. There is no opportunity for an 
"observation," even if we had the instruments to make 
one. We know by the compass that we are heading for 
Quebec, and we know we are still on the open sea, for we 
are out of soundings. 

Our captain and pilot do not seem worried over the 
situation. They are not apprehending collisions, for 
they say the steamers cannot run in this fog, and that 
the sailing craft, if moving at all, are going in the same 
direction as ourselves. 

But this easy confidence receives a shock. At half- 
past two in the morning, while we are still in the impene- 
trable fog and going as rapidly as before, there is a crash, 
and the helmsman cries out in wild consternation for 
"All hands on deck." 



128 Anticosti 

There is hurrying backward and forward, shouting and 
unintelligible orders about sails, some French profanity 
and an unmistakable volley of British oaths coming down 
from somewhere above us, in the darkness ; which presently 
drifts away and grows fainter in the distance. 

Our ship's lanterns are brought into active requisition 
to find out what has happened. The schooner proves to 
be all safe and sound, except that a piece about two 
feet long has been broken off the end of our bowsprit. 
It looks very much as if we have run into some ship lying 
at anchor, with happily no worse results. 

Warned by this experience, we proceed now under 
shortened sail, and at a slower rate. Is it the same day, 
or the next one, when, toward noon, we are suddenly 
startled by the loud report of a cannon, seemingly close 
at hand! The pilot's face is at once beaming with smiles. 
He says: 

"ItisBic!" 

So he knows where we are. We ask where and what 
is Bic. We learn that it is an island where the govern- 
ment has a lighthouse and a fogbell, and, at intervals of 
a few minutes, fire a cannon, as a warning to mariners. 
We have not seen the light, nor heard the fogbell, but 
we could not help hearing the cannon. So we drop anchor 
at once. 

When the fog lifts, as after a while it does, with the 
swiftness of raising a curtain, we find we are in a spacious 
harbour, surrounded by a whole fleet of vessels, steamers 
and sailing craft, which, like ourselves, have sought shelter 
under the protecting care of Bic. We are out of the Gulf 
and well up the river, and have come in the fog nearly 
two hundred miles from Anticosti. 

Napoleon III and Eugenie at Compiegne. My father's 
visit to Europe in 1859 has been described in the published 



Napoleon III and Eugenie at Compi^gne 129 

extracts from his letters. But the story of one of the most 
interesting days of that journey is not told there. A sub- 
sequent conversation of his with M. Drouyn de I'Huys 
gives the narration here. 

"Then you were in France before you were Secretary 
of State, were you not, Mr. Seward?" 

"Yes," he replied, "being in the Senate and a member 
of the Committee on Foreign Relations, I came to Europe 
in 1859, to study the strength and disposition of the 
nations with whom we had important questions, and in 
a possible contingency, might have critical ones." 

"Whom did you see in Paris?" 

"I met and saw much of Count Walewski and other 
members of the Imperial Government." 

"Walewski had charge of foreign affairs at that time, 
did he not?" 

"Yes, I first saw him on his day for giving audiences 
to the ambassadors of foreign Powers. We were shown 
into a fine hall embellished with pictures and statuary 
peculiar to the Empire. Over the mantel was a very 
large picture commemorating the Treaty of Paris, which 
closed the Russian War. I recognized at once in this 
the British Minister, Lord Clarendon. The most im- 
portant figure was, however, that of the French Secretary 
of State. 

"I saw at once that it was the likeness of the first 
Napoleon softened and made agreeable. When I asked 
who that was, I was surprised by the answer that it was 
Count Walewski. I remarked the strange resemblance 
to the Napoleon head. The answer was that Walewski 
was the son of a Polish lady, with no acknowledged father, 
and that he was usually believed to be the natural son 
of Napoleon I. He was a very intelligent and engaging 
man. He conversed freely, and I learned the imperial 
dynasty at that time had no special fear of England's 



130 Napoleon III and Eugenie at Compi^gne 

policy. It was feeling very strong. I was introduced 
there to Lord Cowley and all the foreign ministers, and 
found the state of Europe was the subject of much anxiety. 
Lord Cowley spoke of his sister, Lady Bulwer, whom we 
had known in Washington when Sir Henry Bulwer was 
the British Minister there." 

"When was it that you saw the Emperor?" 

"Some time afterward he invited me to visit him at 
Compi^gne, and I spent a day there." 

"Pray tell us of that visit." 

"I arrived at the palace about ten o'clock, and was 
ushered into the antes? hamber, filled with clerks, writing 
and recording orders for the special departments of Paris. 
Presently an officer came to say that the Emperor would 
receive me in his private room. 

"It was a chilly morning, and he was warming himself 
before an open fire. He sat down immediately, after 
shaking hands with me, and expressed himself glad to 
see me in France. He asked some questions in regard to 
my travelling experiences, which led me to give a humor- 
ous turn to some incident which had befallen me. After 
a laugh together over this, he suddenly asked me what 
the people of the United States thought of his ad- 
ministration. I replied: 'Your Majesty may well imag- 
ine that the people of the United States think better of 
your administration than they expected to when it 
began ! ' 

"Then we talked on. He was not merely courteous 
but genial. We talked on political subjects everywhere 
but in France. We talked fast and freely. It seemed 
difficult to find a subject on which we could differ, or 
which he did not discuss wisely. He asked my opinion 
of the European statesmen whom I had met, and inquired 
who had impressed me most. 

"I told him Count Cavour in Italy, the Emperor Fran- 



Napoleon III and Eugenie at Compi^gne 131 

cis Joseph in Austria, and Gladstone in England. Recall- 
ing the incident of our having met once before, in 1837, 
at the house of Chancellor Kent in New York, the Emperor 
expressed a high admiration for the United States, and 
said that owing to the extreme illness of his mother he 
was obliged to return to Europe without having seen 
Washington, which he much regretted. 

"A door opened, and a lady, graceful and pensively- 
beautiful, entered. The Emperor arose and said: 'The 
Empress. ' She glided lightly toward the table, gave me 
her hand, and sat down. She asked me a courteous 
question about my arrival; and .he Emperor told her 
that I had a good story about one of my adventures, and 
insisted that I should tell it to her. Whereupon we 
laughed ourselves into a perfect agreement. The Empress 
asked me: 'Which party do you belong to? Mr. Mason, 
the American Minister here, is on the Southern side. Do 
you agree with him?' 

"I answered: 'That is the government side at home, 
but I must avow, in frankness to your Majesty, that my 
political position is so boldly defined there that I am 
called an Abolitionist. ' 

" * I like you for that. I dislike slavery so much. ' 

"After speaking these impulsive words her counte- 
nance showed embarrassment, and on turning to the Em- 
peror I saw that she had received from him, by a look, 
an admonition against imprudence. 

" 'Never mind, Madame,' said I, 'there is no harm 
done. While I thank you for your ingenuousness, what 
you have said shall not be repeated. 

" 'And perhaps I must ask a great favour from your 
Majesties. John Brown has just been captured and 
imprisoned at Harpers Ferry, charged with high treason 
against Virginia. Although I had no knowledge what- 
ever of the transaction, the Democratic party charge me 



132 Napoleon III and Eugenie at Compi^gne 

with complicity in the crime, and the New York Herald 
announces that the Emperor will be required to surrender 
me as a fugitive from justice, and so I may be obliged to 
ask your Majesties not to give me up. ' 

"Both the Emperor and Empress laughingly assured 
me of their protection. 

After breakfast a large company gathered in a salon. 
Of course the imperial infant, son and heir, was brought 
in, and received compliments and caresses all around. 

" 'Mr. Seward, you must see my little boy,' said the 
Empress. She put his little hand in mine, and he repeated 
after her: 'How do you do, Mr. Seward?' 

"Shortly after, the Emperor brought the child to me 
and said : ' I desire to show you my son. ' 

"The same salutation having passed again, I took the 
beautiful boy in my arms and said : * It will do the Prince 
no harm to receive a kiss from an old man, although he 
is a republican. ' The Emperor smiled and cordially ap- 
proved. 

"The Emperor went to the chase with a party of gentle- 
men, and I joined the Empress's party in a drive through 
the magnificent forests. 

"When, later, the guests had retired before dinner, 
and I was waiting for my train, the Emperor remained 
conversing with me in the salon, giving me the plan and 
full particulars of the changes he was making in Paris, 
and pointing out various localities on a map of Louis 
XVI. 's time. In the midst of this conversation, he 
stopped to inquire of me about Niagara, and asked if it 
could be true that Blondin proposed to walk on a wire 
across the river. I told him that I had just learned from 
an American newspaper that the feat had been accom- 
plished. 

* ' I brought away from Compiegne very pleasant memo- 
ries of the kindly expressions and greetings received there. 



Napoleon III and Eugenie at Compi^gne 133 

And I learned then that the chief, the ruling, thought of 
the Imperial Government was, how to frame a policy which 
should render the Napoleonic dynasty safe and perpetuate 
it." 



PART II 

During tHe War 

1861. 

The Baltimore Plot. In February, 1861, Mr. Lincoln 

was on his way to Washington. Leaving Illinois on the 
I ith, he and his friends were making a journey necessarily 
protracted by the receptions and ovations which the 
people were eager to tender to the newly elected President. 
Newspapers chronicled the incidents of his trip, the public 
greetings at Indianapolis, Columbus, and Pittsburgh, 
and the preparations for his welcome at New York, 
Philadelphia, and Baltimore. 

About noon on Thursday, the 21st, I was in the gallery 
of the Senate Chamber when one of the pages touched my 
arm, and told me that Senator Seward wished to see me 
immediately. Going down I met him in the lobby. 
He said that he had received a note from General Scott 
and Colonel Stone, communicating information that 
seemed of grave import and requiring immediate atten- 
tion. He handed me a letter which he had just written 
to Mr. Lincoln, enclosing the note from General Scott. 
He said: 

"Whether this story is well founded or not, Mr. Lincoln 
ought to know of it at once. But I know of no reason 
to doubt it. General Scott is impressed with the belief 
that the danger is real. Colonel Stone has facilities for 

134 



The Baltimore Plot 135 

knowing, and is not apt to exaggerate. I want you to 
go by the first train. Find Mr. Lincoln wherever he is. 

"Let no one else know your errand. I have written 
him that I think he should change his arrangements, and 
pass through Baltimore at a different hour. I know it 
may occasion some embarrassment, and perhaps some 
ill-natured talk. Nevertheless, I would strongly advise 
him to do it." 

The train, a tedious one, brought me into Philadelphia 
about ten o'clock at night. I had learned from the news- 
papers, and the conversation of my fellow-passengers, 
that the party of the President-elect would spend the night 
at the Continental Hotel, where he would be serenaded. 

Arriving at the hotel, I found Chestnut Street crowded 
with people, gay with lights, and echoing with music and 
cheering. Within, the halls and stairways were packed, 
and the brilliantly lighted parlours were filled with ladies 
and gentlemen who had come to "pay their respects." 
A burst of animated conversation pervaded the throng, 
and in its centre presentations to the President-elect 
appeared to be going on. Clearly, this was no time for 
the delivery of a confidential message. I turned into a 
room near the head of the stairway, which had been 
pointed out as that of Mr. Robert Lincoln. He was sur- 
rounded by a group of young friends. On my introducing 
myself, he met and greeted me with courteous warmth, 
and then called to Colonel Ward H. Lamon, who was 
passing, and introduced us to each other. Colonel Lamon, 
taking me by the arm, proposed at once to go back into 
the parlour to present me to Mr. Lincoln. On my telling 
him that I wanted my interview to be as private and to 
attract as little attention as possible, the Colonel laughed 
and said: 

"Then I think I had better take you to his bedroom. 
If you don't mind waiting there, you'll be sure to meet 



136 The Baltimore Plot 

him, for he has got to go there sometime tonight, and it 
is the only place I know of where he will be likely to be 
alone." 

This was the very opportunity I desired. Thanking 
the Colonel, I sat and waited for an hour or more in the 
quiet room that was in such contrast to the bustle outside. 
Presently Colonel Lamon called me, and we met Mr. 
Lincoln, who was coming down the hall. I had never 
before seen him; but the campaign portraits had made his 
face quite familiar. I could not but notice how accu- 
rately they had copied his features, and how totally they 
had omitted his careworn look, and his pleasant, kindly 
smile. 

After a few words of friendly greeting, with inquiries 
about my father and matters in Washington, he sat down 
by the table under the gas light to peruse the letter I had 
brought. Although its contents were of a somewhat 
startling nature he made no exclamation, and I saw no 
sign of surprise in his face. After reading it carefully 
through, he again held it to the light, and deliberately 
read it through a second time. Then, after musing a 
moment, he looked up and asked: 

" Did you hear anything about the way this information 
was obtained? Do you know anything about how they 
got it?" 

No, I had known nothing in regard to it, till that morn- 
ing when called down by my father from the Senate 
gallery. 

"Your father and General Scott do not say who they 
think are concerned in it. Do you think they know?" 

On that point, too, I could give no additional informa- 
tion further than my impression that my father's know- 
ledge was limited to what had been communicated to him 
by Colonel Stone, in whose statements he had implicit 
confidence. 



The Baltimore Plot 137 

"Did you hear any names mentioned? Did you, for 
instance, ever hear anything said about such a name as 
Pinkerton?" 

No, I had heard no such name in connection with the 
matter, — no name at all, in fact, except those of General 
Scott and Colonel Stone. 

He thought a moment, and then said : 

"I may as well tell you why I ask. There were stories 
or rumours some time ago, before I left home, about people 
who were intending to do me a mischief. I never at- 
tached much importance to them — never wanted to believe 
any such thing. So I never would do anything about 
them, in the way of taking precautions and the like. 
Some of my friends, though, thought differently — Judd 
and others — and without my knowledge they employed 
a detective to look into the matter. It seems he has 
occasionally reported what he found, and only today, 
since we arrived at this house, he brought this story, or 
something similar to it, about an attempt on my life in 
the confusion and hurly-burly of the reception at Balti- 
more." 

"Surely, Mr. Lincoln," said I, "that is a strong cor- 
roboration of the news I bring you." 

He smiled and shook his head. 

"That is exactly why I was asking you about names. 
If different persons, not knowing of each other's work, 
have been pursuing separate clues that led to the same 
result, why then it shows there may be something in it. 
But if this is only the same story, filtered through two 
channels, and reaching me in two ways, then that don't 
make it any stronger. Don't you see?" 

The logic was unanswerable. But I asserted my strong 
belief that the two investigations had been conducted 
independently of each other, and urged that there was 
enough of probability to make it prudent to adopt the 



138 The Baltimore Plot 

suggestion, and make the slight change in hour and train 
which would avoid all risk. 

After a little further discussion of the subject, Mr. Lin- 
coln rose and said: 

"Well, we haven't got to decide it tonight, anyway, 
and I see it's getting late." 

Then, noticing that I looked disappointed at his re- 
luctance to regard the warning, he said kindly : 

"You need not think I will not consider it well. I shall 
think it over carefully, and try to decide it right; and I 
will let you know in the morning." 

At the breakfast table the next day I found the morning 
papers announced that Mr. Lincoln had risen early, in 
order to go over to Independence Hall to attend the flag 
raising there on Washington's Birthday. They gave 
also a report of his remarks there. One sentence in these 
had a deeper meaning than his audience guessed. Ad- 
verting to the principle embodied in the Declaration of 
Independence, he said: "If this country cannot be saved 
without giving up that principle, I was about to say, I 
would rather be assassinated on this spot than surrender 
it." 

Shortly after breakfast. Colonel Lamon met me in the 
hall, and, taking me aside, said that Mr. Lincoln had 
concluded to do as he had been advised. He would change 
his plan so as to pass through Baltimore at a different 
hour from that announced. I hastened to the telegraph 
office, and sent to my father a word previously agreed 
upon; on receiving which he would understand that his 
advice had been taken. 

Accordingly, he was at the railroad station in Washing- 
ton on Saturday morning, with E. B. Washburne of Illi- 
nois, when Mr. Lincoln and Colonel Lamon, very much 
to the surprise of the bystanders, got out of the night 
train from Philadelphia. 



The Old State Department 139 

After breakfast, my father introduced him to the Presi- 
dent and Cabinet, and then went with him to call on 
General Scott. Rooms had been taken for the President- 
elect at Willard's Hotel, and most of the afternoon was 
passed in receiving visits from his friends, the members 
of Congress, and of the Peace Conference. Mingled with 
the expressions of gratification at meeting him, was an 
undertone of regret that it should have been deemed 
necessary or wise to make the hasty night trip through 
Baltimore. This was natural enough. The time had 
not yet come when Americans in general could realize 
that a crime at once so nefarious and so foolish as the 
assassination of the Chief Magistrate was possible. 

Mr. Lincoln himself, conversing with his friend Leonard 
Swett, intimated that, while he had been impressed by 
the Pinkerton warning, yet he had about made up his 
mind not to be influenced by it, unsupported as it was 
by any other evidence. When, later in the evening, I 
arrived with the letters from my father, General Scott, 
and Colonel Stone, resulting from a different investiga- 
tion, it became manifest to him that at least the matter 
had too much importance to be disregarded. 

So he made his quiet entry into the national capital 
by the night train — thus defeating the plans of the con- 
spirators to attack him in the tumult expected to follow 
the arrival of his train in Baltimore at noon. 

The Old State Department. "Your nomination was 
confirmed in the Senate today. So you are now the 
Assistant Secretary of State," said Senator Sumner, 
looking in, with a smile on his usually grave face. "No 
objection was made, and you will be able to enter upon 
your duties tomorrow." 

Accordingly I walked over to the historic old building 
in the morning, took the oath of office, and began my work. 



140 The Old State Department 

In Major L'Enfant's original plan of Washington there 
were four buildings, all just alike, at the four comers of 
the square devoted to the grounds and groves surround- 
ing the Executive Mansion. They were for the four 
departments, of State, Treasury, War, and Navy. They 
were substantial modest brick edifices, without architec- 
tural ornament, except a lofty portico, with white columns, 
on the north side of each, covering its principal entrance. 

The revenues and expenditures of the new Republic 
soon began to exceed all expectations; and the Treasury 
Department was torn down to give place to a much more 
spacious and pretentious structure, having a long colon- 
nade on 15th Street. The War and Navy establishments 
also outgrew their quarters, but their buildings were 
still standing, and were supplemented by additional 
ones rented on the adjoining streets, for bureaus and 
clerks. Only the State Department retained its original 
dimensions ; for the whole number of its officials in Wash- 
ington hardly amounted to a hundred men. It had a 
certain stately dignity, enhanced by the remembrance of 
what had transpired within its grey walls in the course of 
seventy years. 

Here the foreign relations of the United States were 
conducted for the greater part of the first century of the 
nation. Here were kept the archives and the correspond- 
ence with all foreign governments, and here were prepared 
the instructions, replies, and treaties, which were to de- 
termine the nation's foreign policy. 

From here Oliver Ellsworth and his colleagues were 
sent out to make the treaty with Talleyrand which averted 
a threatened war with France. From here Jefferson 
sent the first written President's Message to Congress. 
Here Madison prepared the instructions to Robert R. 
Livingston as Minister at Paris, to guide him in nego- 
tiating the purchase of the great Louisiana territory. 



The Old State Department 141 

Here Decatur and Preble were instructed to break up 
the piracy of the Barbary powers, to release the captives, 
and make an end of the tribute. From here Monroe and 
Pinckney set out to try to stop the impressment of Ameri- 
can seamen and the seizure of American ships by the 
British navy. From here emanated Jefferson's procla- 
mation, ordering all British men-of-war out of American 
waters. Here Secretary Monroe gave the British Minister 
his passports, and President Madison proclaimed the 
war with England. Here, soon after, came the Russian 
envoy to offer friendly mediation in the conflict, and from 
here, soon after that, Henry Clay and his colleagues went 
out to effect the restoration of peace by the Treaty of 
Ghent. From here was promulgated the celebrated 
"Monroe Doctrine," that this continent was to be thence- 
forward free from European dictation. Here John Quincy 
Adams concluded the treaty with Spain for the acquisition 
of Florida. From here went out the recognition of the 
independence of Mexico and the South American repub- 
lics. Here Lafayette was welcomed; and from here 
Harrison bore greetings to Bolivar. Here was penned 
General Jackson's message denouncing nullification by 
South Carolina. Here "Webster concluded his treaty with 
Lord Ashburton settling all boundary and extradition 
disputes with Great Britain. And here he made his 
famous declaration that "Every merchant vessel on the 
high seas is rightfully considered part of the territory to 
which it belongs." From here Secretary Calhoun, on 
the night before President Tyler's retirement from office, 
sent out a messenger offering annexation to Texas. Here 
Secretary Buchanan drafted the treaty of peace with 
Mexico, and from here went out Polk's proclamation of 
the new treaty of Guadelupe-Hidalgo and the acquisition 
of California and New Mexico. Here Clayton heard the 
knell of his political hopes, when the bell over his head 



142 The Old State Department 

began to toll for the death of General Taylor. From 
here went forth the invitation to Kossuth, then exiled 
in Turkey, to come to the United States on board an 
American frigate. Here were framed the instructions 
and treaty through which Commodore Perry was to open 
Japan to American commerce. Here Marcy penned his 
celebrated dispatch in the Koszta case, maintaining the 
rights of American citizenship. And here President 
and Queen exchanged congratulations, in the first messages 
that ever went over the Atlantic cable. 

Now, in the beginning of 1861, the State Department 
was in a condition of suspended animation. The Secre- 
tary of State, General Cass, had resigned, on account of 
a difference of opinion with President Buchanan. The 
Assistant Secretary of State, Mr. Trescott, had gone home 
to South Carolina, to take part in her secession from the 
Union. The Attorney-General, Mr. Black, was in nomi- 
nal charge of the office but exercising few of its functions. 
The actual head of affairs departmental was Mr. William 
Hunter, the Chief Clerk. 

Fortunately he was admirably equipped for that work. 
Appointed in his youth to a clerkship in the Department 
by John Quincy Adams, he had passed the greater part 
of his life within its walls, under different secretaries, 
through successive administrations, and rising by succes- 
sive promotions from the lowest to the highest rank. He 
took no part in partisan conflicts. His loyalty to the 
Union was undoubted. His allegiance and fidelity were 
to the Government. So every secretary trusted him and 
depended on him. He was a walking encyclopaedia of 
the decisions and precedents and questions arising out of 
our foreign relations. Of course he was familiarly ac- 
quainted with the personnel of the Department and of 
the diplomatic corps, past and present. Conversing 
fluently in French and Spanish, he was an excellent medium 



The Old State Department 143 

for intercourse with the foreign representatives, — most of 
whom Hked to have a private unofficial interview with 
Mr. Hunter, when they were not sure whether their 
carefully studied English would correspond with the 
customary American idioms. His functions had gradu- 
ally come to be very like those of the permanent Under 
Secretary in the British Foreign Office, a post held for 
years by Sir Julian Pauncefote and by other eminent 
diplomatists. 

The stern dislike of our forefathers toward monarchy 
and titles of nobility found expression in our Constitution 
and laws. The President was to be simply "The Presi- 
dent," not "His Majesty" nor "His Highness" nor even 
"His Excellency." No titles of nobility or decorations 
were to be granted. We were to have no ambassadors, 
or field marshals, or lord high admirals. We were to 
be represented abroad by ministers and charges. In 
the departments, those high dignitaries known at Euro- 
pean courts as lord high chancellors, lord high treas- 
urers, and other lordships and excellencies were shorn of 
such distinctions, and even the keeper of the seal and 
clerk of the rolls and such important officers were described 
in the statute books as " 1st, 2d, 3d, and 4th class clerks." 
So the officials of the State Department, many of whom 
had occupied responsible diplomatic positions and dis- 
charged important functions, were relegated to that 
democratic level. 

Ever since General Jackson's time there had been usu- 
ally almost a clean sweep of department officials after 
each Presidential election, on the ground that "to the 
victors belong the spoils." Active partisans received 
the offices as their rewards. But it was soon learned that 
the Department of State must be made an exception to 
that rule, unless we were ready to sacrifice all the tact 
and experience gained by long service in diplomacy, of 



144 The Old State Department 

which we needed as much as any European Power. So 
many officers of the Department represented successive 
administrations, and some had a record of ten, twenty, 
or thirty years' service. 

On the morning after his appointment to be Secretary 
of State, my father sent for Mr. Hunter, and requested 
that a complete list of all the officers, clerks, and employees 
should be brought to him. Then inquiry was made as 
to which ones were trustworthy and loyal to the Union 
and which were disaffected or openly disloyal. It was not 
difficult to select them, for Washington had so long been 
a Southern city and so many of its officials were in sym- 
pathy with the Secessionists, that outspoken disunion 
sentiments were freely avowed. In fact all the depart- 
ments contained many whom it was believed only remained 
in order to use their positions to give aid or information 
to the opponents of the Government. 

The new Secretary of State promptly dismissed all 
except those whose fidelity to the Union was undoubted. 
Then he informed Mr. Hunter he should make no further 
inquiry or discrimination in regard to past party affilia- 
tions, but should expect all who remained to act with him 
in zealously maintaining and upholding the Federal 
Union. 

The good results of this policy were immediately ap- 
parent, and continued throughout the period of the Civil 
War. Faithful and zealous service was rendered by all. 
No duty was neglected, no state secrets betrayed, and 
no removal ever found necessary. In fact most of the 
State Department clerks remained at their desks during 
the time of Presidents Lincoln, Johnson, Grant, and Hayes, 
several being promoted to higher diplomatic or depart- 
mental work. 

A year or two after the close of the Civil War, it was 
decreed that the old department building should be pulled 



The Month of Suspense 145 

down to give place to more spacious and imposing edifices. 
While the demolition was going on, and we were occupy- 
ing temporary quarters on 14th Street, Mr. Cox of the 
Disbursing Office called to present a mahogany cane to 
the Secretary of State. 

• "This cane, Mr. Secretary," said he, "has been in the 
hands of every President of the United States since Wash- 
ington, of every Vice-President, of every Minister sent 
abroad and every foreign representative sent here by any 
foreign Power, of every cabinet officer in every adminis- 
tration, as well as in the hands of every Senator and 
member of Congress who has been at all prominent in 
government affairs." 

"Your tale rather taxes one's credulity, Mr. Cox. 
What is this remarkable cane that you offer me?" 

"It is one, Mr. Secretary, that has been carved out of 
the handrail of the stairway in the old Department of 
State, which all visitors have used on their way to the 
Secretary's room." 

The cane is now preserved at Auburn. 

The Month of Suspense. When Mr. Lincoln had been 
peaceably inaugurated, it seemed to many both at the 
North and the South that the worst was now over. There 
had been no riot or tumult. All was decorous and orderly. 
True, there were several States that declared themselves 
"seceded"; but State after State during the winter had 
"gone out," and nothing had happened. They had made 
no hostile demonstration, and none had been made to- 
wards them. There was a popular feeling that the "se- 
ceded" States would simply hold aloof from participating 
in public affairs, maintain an attitude of sullen defiance, 
coupled with preparations for military defence, and so 
would await or make overtures of readjustment. 

The people of the North were incredulous of Southern 



146 The Month of Suspense 

threats. That any one should actually make war upon 
the general government was to them hardly imaginable. 
Besides there was no immediate reason or provocation. 
The Republican party had declared that it had no inten- 
tion of interfering with slavery in the States, and there 
was now no Territorial issue. The Republican President 
had been elected and inaugurated, but he was powerless 
to act while Congress was opposed to him. Furthermore 
it was known that there were many differences of opinion 
among the Northern people. Numerous public men and 
bodies had declared that it was "unconstitutional" for 
the Federal Government to "coerce a sovereign State." 
Many of the Northern Democrats were believed to be in 
sympathy with the South and with slavery; while it was 
well known that there were many stanch Union men in the 
Southern States. 

There were three points on which public interest was 
centred, Fort Sumter, Fort Pickens, and the State of 
Viriginia. 

Fort Sumter, in Charleston harbour, was claimed by 
South Carolinians as legitimately belonging to the State, 
although held by a small Federal garrison. They an- 
nounced that they would allow it to be neither reinforced 
nor supplied, and they were diligently erecting batteries 
and throwing up earthworks around it, to prevent any 
succour from reaching it. They confidently hoped that 
the little garrison would soon be starved out or surrender. 

Fort Pickens, on the coast of Florida, had also a small 
garrison, which the Secessionists hoped to capture by the 
simple expedient of taking the men, one by one, on a writ 
of habeas corpus before a neighbouring judge, by whom, 
on one pretext or another, they were promptly discharged 
from the United States military service. So the garrison 
was slowly but effectively reduced. 

Meanwhile the State of Virignia was holding a conven- 



The Month of Suspense 147 

tion at which the disunionists were hoping to pass an 
ordinance of secession. The Union men, however, claimed 
a majority. If Virginia refused to pass the ordinance 
and remained in the Union, the revolution would be shorn 
of its proportions, whereas if she sided with the rebellion, 
Maryland would follow, and all the slave States would be 
united. This, it was held, would convince the North of 
the utter hopelessness of subjugating so vast a territory, 
covering nearly half of the Union. 

All the energies of the disunionists were put forth 
therefore to acquire Virginia. It was confidently believed, 
however, at the North, that the disunion leaders were 
in a minority, though a very active and persevering one. 
The disunionists themselves insisted that their policy 
meant peace, not war, for all the free States, even if 
united, could not hope to conquer all the slaveholding 
ones. While the debates in the Virginian convention 
thus dragged along, the leaders cast about for means to 
"fire the Southern heart," and so secure a "united 
South." 

On his way home from St. John's Church, the first 
Sunday after his arrival in Washington, Mr. Lincoln had 
said to my father: "Governor Seward, there is one part 
of my work that I shall have to leave largely to you. I 
shall have to depend upon you for taking care of these 
matters of foreign affairs, of which I know so little, and 
with which I reckon you are familiar." 

President Lincoln now had set about his laborious 
duties in good faith, and the first shape in which they 
presented themselves to him was in the swarm of office- 
seekers that beleaguered the White House, filling all the 
halls, corridors, and offices from morning till night. The 
patient good humour and the democratic habits of the 
new President led him to give audience to everybody, at 
all hours. Even the members of his Cabinet, sometimes, 



148 The Month of Suspense 

had to force their way through the crowd, and get the 
private ear of the President in the corner of a roomful of 
visitors, before they could impart to him grave matters 
of state. 

My father was a daily and frequent visitor at the White 
House during this month of crowds and confusion. I 
found myself often a bearer of messages from one to the 
other, about matters too important for longer delay. At 
first, when I would take up to the President a paper for 
his signature, he would spread it out and carefully read 
the whole of it. But this usage was speedily abandoned, 
and he would hastily say, "Your father says this is all 
right, does he? Well, I guess he knows. Where do I 
put my name?" 

While President and people were resting in the confident 
belief that, if the offices could only be satisfactorily disposed 
of, and the Southern trouble somehow staved off, all might 
yet go well, a new and unlooked-for danger was not only 
threatened, but actually close at hand from Europe. 

My father had now been in the State Department long 
enough to discover that the three great Powers of western 
Europe were actively engaged in helping the plots to 
break up the United States. This was their opportunity. 
Public attention in the United States had been so absorbed 
in affairs at home that none had been given to affairs 
abroad. But these three great Powers had been closely 
watching our troubles, and preparing to take advantage 
of them. If the great American Republic was going to 
pieces, it meant to them that the republican form of 
government, everywhere, was doomed to like destruction. 

Spain, England, and France were monarchical govern- 
ments, having little faith in republics. Now, the progress 
of events in the United States seemed to show that the 
old order of things was coming back, and they could 
resume the building of their empires on monarchical lines. 



The Month of Suspense 149 

The "Monroe Doctrine" could safely be ignored, and 
the interference of America need not be feared. 

Spain had already openly seized the government of 
San Domingo, toppled down the Dominican republic, and 
again planted the banner of Castile on the island where 
it first waved four hundred years before. 

England, through Lord Lyons, had formally notified 
the American Secretary of State that any "paper block- 
ade" of Southern ports would be disregarded by her 
Majesty's government, and that none would be regarded 
unless "rendered effective by ample naval force." He 
significantly added that the American navy was by no 
means such a force. 

France was evasive as to her designs in Mexico, and 
certainly would not regard any "paper blockade" of the 
"seceded States," but instead she might recognize those 
States themselves. 

The whole fabric of American republics threatened to 
fall like a house of cards. To European statesmen, this 
result seemed to be exactly what they had so long pre- 
dicted. 

On Sunday afternoon, the 1st of April, my father wrote 
out a series of suggestions for Mr. Lincoln, to aid him in 
thinking over topics which would come up at succeeding 
interviews. This paper was headed, "Some thoughts for 
the President's consideration." It was not to be filed, 
or to pass into the hands of any clerk. As my father's 
handwriting was almost illegible, I copied it myself, and 
dispatched it by private hand. 

In this paper were briefly outlined suggestions in regard 
to the crowd of office-seekers, the relief of the two forts, 
the navy and the blockade, the suspension of the habeas 
corpus at Key West, the issues of slavery and the Union 
or disunion, and the foreign policy to be pursued with 
reference to the various European Powers. 



150 The Call to Arms 

Mr. Lincoln acknowledged its reception in a kind and 
dignified note, in which he said that if these things were 
to be done, then he must do them. So the "Thoughts'* 
became, as intended, the basis of subsequent interviews 
between the President and the Secretary of State. They 
also proved useful hints for Cabinet discussions. My 
father found the President ready and willing to sanction 
and co-operate in most of the points and suggestions. 
Accordingly, on the very next day, Spain was called upon, 
through her Minister, Mr. Tassara, for " explanations " 
in regard to her acts in San Domingo. The secret expedi- 
tion for the relief of Fort Pickens was approved, fitted 
out, and dispatched without attracting public attention 
until it reached its destination and accomplished its pur- 
pose. It carried the executive order for the suspension 
of the writ of habeas corpus at Key West. On succeed- 
ing days, the "explanations" from France, Great Britain, 
Russia, and Spain were called for with more or less satis- 
factory results. 

And now the month of suspense drew to its inevitable 
ending. The events dreaded at the North, and hoped for 
at the South, actually took place. As Fort Sumter was 
to be either evacuated or reinforced, the Administration 
decided to supply and reinforce it. South Carolina 
decided to bombard and capture it. 

Virginia thereupon promptly passed the Ordinance of 
Secession. And so, amid general Southern exultation, the 
dream of the Secessionists for a " united South " was at 
last realized — to be followed by an awakening to four years 
of bloody war — and the final restoration of the Union. 

The Call to Arms. It was on Fridaj^ the 12th of April, 
that news came that the Secessionists were about to 
attack Fort Sumter, and would endeavour to carry it by 
assault before the relief expedition could reach there. 



The Call to Arms 151 

It was while the batteries in Charleston were opening 
fire on the national flag that my father was penning his 
instructions to Burlingame. In them he remarked: 
"We are just now entering on a fearful trial, not only- 
unknown but even deemed impossible. Ambitious and 
discontented partisans have raised the standard of in- 
surrection, and organized a revolutionary government. 
Their agents have gone abroad to seek, under the name 
of 'recognition,' aid and assistance. A premature de- 
claration of recognition by any foreign state would be 
direct intervention, and the state which should lend it 
must be prepared to assume the relations of an ally of 
the projected Confederacy. Both the justice and the 
wisdom of the war must be settled, as all questions which 
concern the American people must be determined, not 
by arms but by suffrage. When, at last, the ballot is to 
be employed, after the sword, then in addition to the 
questions indicated, two further ones will arise, requiring 
to be answered, namely, which party began the conflict, 
and which maintained in that conflict the cause of freedom 
and humanity." 

Saturday morning came the news of the bombardment, 
and the gallant defence of their flag by the handful of 
men in the garrison, against the overwhelming odds of 
batteries erected all round the harbour and manned by 
besiegers, who were to the besieged more than a hundred 
to one. Occasional telegraphic dispatches, sent out during 
the day and evening by the assailants, chronicled the 
progress of the unequal struggle. 

Sunday morning it was known in Washington that the 
defenders, having faithfully performed their duty so long 
as their guns and ammunition held out, would haul down 
their flag at noon, and evacuate the fort. 

President and Cabinet passed most of the day in con- 
sultation over the grave, though not unexpected, event, 



152 The Call to Arms 

and its far-reaching consequences. As to their own imme- 
diate duty there was no difference of opinion. The time 
had manifestly arrived to call for troops. It was no 
longer a question of "coercing States" but of defending 
the existence of the nation. Nor was there any delusive 
hope that a small force would suffice. Each of the Cabinet 
members realized that the contest would be gigantic. 

The point for anxious consultation was, not how many 
soldiers would quell the rebellion, but how many it would 
be wise to call for at the very outset. The lowest figure 
suggested was fift}?- thousand; the highest one hundred 
thousand. My father advocated the largest number. 
It was finally deemed prudent to fix the limit at seventy- 
five thousand. By this an effective force of fifty thousand 
men might be counted on at once from the Northern 
States. In the border States there would be lukewarm- 
ness and delay, perhaps refusal. 

The next question was as to calling Congress. The 
executive branch of the Government could not levy armies, 
and expend public money, without Congressional sanction. 
Congress would be loyal, but it would be a deliberative 
body, and to wait for "many men of many minds " to shape 
a war policy would be to invite disaster. So it was con- 
cluded to call Congress to meet on the 4th of July, and 
to trust to their patriotism to sanction the war measures 
taken prior to that time by the Executive. 

President Lincoln drafted the substance of his proposed 
Proclamation. The Secretary of War undertook to ar- 
range the respective quotas of the several States. The 
Secretary of State brought the document to his Depart- 
ment, and, calling together his clerks, had it duly per- 
fected in form and engrossed. The President's signature 
and his own were appended, the great seal affixed that 
evening, and copies were given to the press that it might 
appear in the newspapers of Monday morning. 



The Call to Arms 153 

The response to the Proclamation at the North was all 
or more than could be anticipated. Every Governor of 
a free State promptly promised that his quota should be 
forthcoming. An enthusiastic outburst of patriotic feel- 
ing — an "uprising of the North" in town and country 
— was reported by telegraph. Dispatches poured in an- 
nouncing the readiness not only of individuals, but of 
whole organizations, to volunteer. Party lines seemed 
to be swept away. Disunion sympathizers were silenced. 
Whole communities were vigorously at work mustering 
troops and sending them forward for the defence of the 
national capital. The newspapers were filled with vivid 
pictures of the scenes of popular enthusiasm in New York, 
Boston, and Philadelphia, where regiments were forming 
amid the waving of flags, the roaring of cannon, and the 
shouts of assembled thousands. 

From the South, the echo to the Proclamation was more 
sullen, but equally significant. Troops for the Confeder- 
acy already organized were hurrying forward. Veteran 
soldiers were marshalling recruits. Popular feeling in 
the seceding States was declared to be unanimous. 
"Union" utterances were silenced and the South was said 
to be "bitterly in earnest in fighting for independence." 

From the border States came indications that, while 
there was still division of opinion, the outbreak of hos- 
tilities was paralysing the Union men and lending new 
energy to the Secessionists. To the call upon them for 
militia, defiant answers were returned. "You can get 
no troops from North Carolina," telegraphed the Governor 
of that State; "I regard the levy of troops made by the 
Administration for the purpose of subjugating the States 
of the South, as a violation of the Constitution, and a 
usurpation of power." The Governor of Tennessee 
replied: "Tennessee will not furnish a single man for 
coercion, but fifty thousand if necessary for the defence 



154 The Call to Arms 

of our rights and those of our brethren." The Governor 
of Kentucky answered: "Kentucky will furnish no troops 
for the wicked purpose of subduing her sister Southern 
States." The Governor of Missouri said: "Not one man 
will the State of Missouri furnish to carry on so unholy 
a crusade." The Governor of Delaware answered more 
mildly: "The laws of this State do not confer upon the 
Executive any authority allowing him to comply with 
such a requisition." From Maryland came no immediate 
response. From Virginia came ominous news that the 
convention had hastily and secretly reversed its previous 
decision, had adopted an Ordinance of Secession, and 
had joined the Confederacy. 

The President of the Confederate Government, at 
Montgomery, issued a proclamation, offering "letters of 
marque and reprisal" to armed privateers of any nation. 
Active measures were begun for organizing troops to at- 
tack Washington. 

Of the regiments called for, New York was to furnish 
seventeen, Pennsylvania sixteen, and Ohio thirteen; 
while the quotas from the other States ranged from one 
to six. 

The day after the Proclamation was issued, the Massa- 
chusetts Sixth Regiment mustered on Boston Common, 
and on the following evening, armed and equipped, was 
on its way to Washington. Acclamations greeted it along 
the roads, and the march down Broadway in New York 
roused the popular enthusiasm to the highest point. The 
evening of Thursday the 1 8th found it at Philadelphia. 

The same evening witnessed the arrival in Washington 
of three or four hundred Pennsylvanians, to be armed, 
equipped, and placed in regimental organization after 
reaching the capital. These were the first comers of the 
new levy. 

A day later the telegraph announced that the New York 



Washington Beleaguered 155 

Seventh was also en route through Philadelphia and that 
others would speedily follow. 

Amid a general outburst of patriotism nothing was more 
significant than the promptness with which many influ- 
ential Northern Democrats announced their determina- 
tion to "stand by the Government." Chief among them 
was Stephen A. Douglas, Lincoln's chief competitor in 
the election, who now, on the day the Proclamation was 
signed, visited the President to assure him of hearty 
sympathy and co-operation. 

Washington Beleaguered. Washington had supposed 
itself to be the capital of the United States; but now it 
was suddenly transformed into an isolated city, in an 
enemies' country, threatened with attack from the hostile 
communities all around it. 

On the 19th came the news that Virginia, having sud- 
denly become a hostile power, had sent troops to seize 
Harpers Ferry. The lieutenant in charge had escaped 
with his little garrison, after setting fire to some of the 
buildings ; but the rebels had thus gained an important 
post, with valuable machinery and a large amount of arms. 

Later in the day came the startling intelligence that the 
mob had attacked the Massachusetts and Pennsylvania 
troops as they were coming through Baltimore. The 
telegraph and evening papers soon brought confirmation 
showing that the rioters had practical control of Baltimore, 
and of the railways north, thus cutting off all communica- 
tion between the North and the capital. 

A day later came the news that the navy yard at Nor- 
folk would probably share the fate of the armory at 
Harpers Ferry. Protected only by a few marines, it 
was exposed to easy capture. The vessels, arms, supplies, 
machinery, buildings, and docks had cost the United 
States Government many millions, and their value to 



156 Washington Beleaguered 

insurgents at the very outset of a rebellion was incalcula- 
ble. Possession of armory and navy yard would place 
in the hands of the rebels, for instant use, more of the 
material of war than the Government would have at hand. 

Commodore Paulding was sent down with the Pawnee 
to rescue and bring such of the ships and supplies as might 
be found practicable. He found on arrival that the ships 
had already been scuttled, and, after a hasty conference of 
the officers of the expedition, it was determined that since 
the property could not be saved, it was best to burn and 
destroy as much as possible, to keep it out of the hands 
of the rebels. 

Dangers were thickening around the Federal city in all 
directions. With Virginia in active hostility on one side, 
Maryland was taking steps to prevent all help on the 
other. The Secessionists were holding meetings, muster- 
ing troops, stopping trains, burning railway bridges. 
By Saturday it was known that railway communication 
with the North was cut off. By Sunday night the tele- 
graph had ceased to work, and it was realized that Wash- 
ington was beleaguered by its enemies on every side. 

Washington was still a slaveholding city. Southern 
sympathies pervaded its social circles and, as yet, were in 
its official circles. When it began to look as if the city 
were cut off from all Northern help and would soon be 
captured by troops advancing from the South, the exul- 
tation of secession sympathizers was neither concealed 
nor repressed. The Confederate flag was flying at Alex- 
andria, in full view from the Capitol and the White 
House. Confederate scouts were reported to be posted 
at the end of the bridge connecting the city with 
Virginia. 

In the streets and hotels the wildest rumours gained 
credence. A mob was reported to be coming over from 
Baltimore, to bum the public buildings and sack the town. 



The War Begun 157 

Confederate vessels were declared to be coming up from 
Norfolk to bombard it. Confederate troops were as- 
serted to be marching up from Richmond, and down from 
Harpers Ferry, to take possession. Forty thousand 
"Virginia volunteers armed with bowie knives," it was 
said, were coming over the Long Bridge. Business was 
at a standstill. The railway station was silent, the 
wharves deserted. Groups of people gathered at street 
corners exchanging, in low tones, their forebodings of 
disaster, or their hopes of relief. 

Government clerks cherishing disloyal sentiments made 
haste to vacate their places, and Southern army and 
navy officers to resign their commissions, so as to be 
ready to join the ranks of the coming conquerors. 

The newspapers, cut off from their usual telegraphic 
facilities, gave such intelligence as they could get, but 
their columns would hardly hold a tithe of the startling 
stories that were flying about the streets. It was an- 
nounced that the Confederate Secretary of War at Mont- 
gomery predicted that the "Confederate flag would float 
over the Capitol at Washington before the 1st of May." 

The War Begun. Half a dozen companies of the regu- 
lar army had been gathered by General Scott, and distrib- 
uted where most needed about the city. The batteries 
of light artillery were posted to guard the bridges. The 
Capitol was barricaded, and the Massachusetts Sixth, 
which had fought its way through Baltimore, was quar- 
tered in the Senate Chamber. The Pennsylvanians had 
been armed and assigned to sirnilar duty. The marines 
were charged with the defence of the wharves and the 
navy yard. 

The District militia, which the General had organized 
for the inauguration, now proved a valuable arm of defence. 
It mustered fifteen companies. They were distributed to 



«»^, 



"■"isrv^*^ 5 *'-^*<-' 



158 The War Begun 

guard the avenues and public buildings. Sentries were 
posted, ammunition distributed, and a system of signals 
arranged, so as to ensure rapid concentration at any point 
attacked. 

Muskets were distributed to clerks in the various govern- 
ment offices, and many private residences were armed for 
defence. Two companies were hastily formed by visitors 
at the hotels and others, under the leadership of Cassius 
M. Clay and James H. Lane, which patrolled the streets 
and performed guard duty. 

About two o'clock in the morning, I was aroused by 
loud knocking at the front door, and descending the 
stairs to ascertain the cause, I found, outside, one of these 
night patrols. They informed me that they had caught 
a suspicious prisoner, evidently a Virginian, whom they 
thought might be a spy. He had avowed his purpose of 
going to Secretary Seward's house, so they had brought 
him around for identification. He was hastily taken 
up, under guard, to my father. 

Rousing himself, my father said: "George, is that you?" 
He turned out to be a young man from Virginia, who had 
been sent over by his mother, a loyal Union woman, to 
tell us that trains were running on the Orange & Alex- 
andria Railroad at frequent intervals, all night, loaded 
with armed men who it was presumed were going to 
attend some Confederate rendezvous at Manassas or 
elsewhere. 

George was released by the patrol, as he had proved to 
be no spy, but a friend, and the information he brought 
confirmed the news that the Confederates were mustering 
somewhere in formidable numbers. 

Our military force, though small, was believed to be 
sufficient to preclude danger of a surprise. 

A few days later came the welcome intelligence that 
the New York Seventh and the Massachusetts Eighth 



The War Begun 159 

and the Seventy-first of New York had arrived at An- 
napolis. 

The rails of the branch railroad had been torn up, and 
the engines disabled, for a distance of nine miles to the 
Washington junction. But "Yankee" soldiers were not 
to be checkmated thereby. General Butler drew up his 
forces, in parade order, at the Annapolis navy yard, 
and requested that any one familiar with track laying, 
or engine repairing, should step to the front. Twenty 
or more skilled mechanics promptly responded to the 
call. So the relieving army made its way to the capital, 
laying down the rails, and putting the trains in order, to 
keep up its communication. Of course they were received 
at the national capital with shouts of joy by the Union 
men. 

Now troops came pouring in for the defence of the 
capital. Every day came the welcome sound of drum and 
fife, and the cheering gleam of bayonets. The long lines 
of newcomers marched up Pennsylvania Avenue, passing 
the State Department and the White House, and pausing 
at the portal of the War Department " to report for duty," 
and to be assigned to their respective camps. 

These were at first in the vacant squares of the city, 
but as time went on, and the army continued to grow, 
they were pushed out into the suburbs, and on the ad- 
joining heights. Many of these, under the direction of 
the engineers, soon became fortified camps and forts. In 
the course of a few months, every hill around Washington 
was crowned with an earthwork, and the city was 
ultimately surrounded by a cordon of fortifications, sixty 
miles in circumference. 

The President and Cabinet found it necessary and de- 
sirable to have personal representatives in New York, 
empowered to act with promptness in the emergencies 
now daily arising. Orders were therefore given for the 



i6o The War Begun 

purchase, charter, and arming of steamships in New York, 
Boston, and Philadelphia, and extraordinary powers, in 
behalf of the War and Navy Departments, were bestowed 
upon Governor Morgan, George D. Morgan, William 
M. Evarts, R. M. Blatchford, and Moses H. Grinnell, to 
whom officers should report for instruction and advice 
in forwarding troops and supplies. 

Similar powers to act for the Treasury Department in 
expending the public money were conferred upon John 
A. Dix, George Opdyke, and R. M. Blatchford. These 
gentlemen were to give no security, and to act without 
compensation, reporting their proceedings when com- 
munications should be re-established. 

How faithfully the great trust was discharged. President 
Lincoln himself, at a later day, bore testimony. 

He said: "The several Departments of the Government, 
at that time, contained so large a number of disloyal 
persons, that it would have been impossible to provide 
safely, through official agents only, for the performance 
of the duties thus confided to citizens favourably known 
for their ability, loyalty, and patriotism. The several 
orders issued upon these occurrences were transmitted 
by private messengers, who pursued a circuitous way to 
the seaboard cities, inland across the States of Penn- 
sylvania and Ohio and the Northern Lakes. I believe 
that by these and similar measures taken in that crisis, 
some of which were without any authority of law, the 
Government was saved from overthrow. I am not aware 
that a dollar of the public funds, thus confided without 
authority of law to imofficial persons, was either lost or 
wasted." 

The Proclamation of Blockade was issued on the morn- 
ing of the 19th of April. Upon the Secretary of State 
of course devolved the duty of preparing and perfecting 
its details. My father had bestowed upon these much 



A College Classmate i6i 

care and forethought, in view of the many warnings al- 
ready received from abroad that advantage would be 
taken by foreign Powers of any opportunity to evade and 
nullify it. 

The Confederates themselves, at the outset, had little 
apprehension that they would find it any serious trouble 
or annoyance. They knew that our navy was entirely 
inadequate to make such a blockade "effective," and 
they had plenty of assurances from England and France 
that anything in the nature of a "paper blockade" would 
be disregarded. "Cotton is King," was the exultant 
cry, "Europe must have it for its factories"; and the 
South had almost a monopoly of the staple itself, with 
twenty or more seaports to ship it from, and millions of 
slaves to cultivate, convey, and ship it. 

Having possession of "King Cotton," they confidently 
believed that that potentate would ensure them the aid 
and comfort of all others. It would give them continued 
trade and assure them of ample resources for carrying on 
the war. 

These expectations were doomed to disappointment, 
for by the activity of the Government at Washington, 
and that of its vicegerents in New York, the army and 
navy were increasing with magic rapidity. Whole fleets 
of transports and gunboats were called into existence, 
and dispatched to the scene of hostilities. 

A College Classmate. In the freshman class at Union 
College in 1845, Daniel Butterfield and I were the young- 
est members. We were friends all through our college 
days, and graduated together in 1849. Then we drifted 
apart, he to Utica and New York, I to Albany and Wash- 
ington. Then for ten years we saw no more of each other. 

In April, 1861, after the fall of Fort Sumter, and the 
first call for seventy-five thousand volimteers, Washington 



1 62 A College Classmate 

was in an excitement bordering on panic. The Seces- 
sionists had cut the telegraph wires, and torn up the rail- 
road tracks and bridges, cutting off communication with 
the North. They were erecting batteries on the Potomac, 
and the city seemed practically beleaguered. It was still 
a Southern town, and predictions were freely made that 
within a fortnight it would be captured by the Confeder- 
ates. The small detachments of regular troops and 
the companies of district militia organized for the inaugu- 
ration were able to guard the public buildings and sup- 
plies, but there was no force to repel such an invading 
attack as we might any day expect. Excited crowds 
thronged the streets and buzzed in the Departments. 

My room at the State Department was filled with 
visitors, officials on business, members of Congress with 
their proteges, who wanted offices, consulates, clerkships, 
claims, or commissions, reporters who came to get news, 
or to bring it, and loungers and rumour-mongers who 
appear at such times like birds of ill omen. I noticed 
in the crowd the face of my old college friend. Butter- 
field. Taking him by the hand, I said : 

"Why Dan, where did you come from? And what are 
you doing here." 

"I am going back home, tired and disappointed," he 
said. "I thought I might be of some service, but find I 
am not wanted. I have been all day at the War Depart- 
ment, and can't get a hearing. The halls and rooms are 
crowded. The doorkeepers say they are not allowed to 
take any more names, or cards, to the Secretary of War. 
The officials are all too busy to listen, or, if they listen, 
have no power to act." 

"What was it you wanted at the War Department?" 
I asked. 

"Only permission to bring my regiment on here, to 
defend the capital. I supposed troops were wanted." 



A College Classmate 163 

"So they are, and urgently and immediately. There 
must be some misapprehension. Come with me, and I 
will go back with you and get you an audience with 
Secretary Cameron." 

We hastened over to the War Department and found 
things as he had described. Of course I was known to 
messengers and doorkeepers, and my official name gave 
me immediate access to the Secretary's room. He was 
sitting at his desk, which was surrounded by an eager 
crowd, the foremost of whom seemed to be haranguing 
him on the merits of something he wanted to sell to the 
Government. 

"Mr. Secretary," said I, "here is my friend. Colonel 
Butterfield, who has something to say to you that I think 
you will be glad to hear." 

"What is it, Mr. Seward?" 

"He has a regiment to offer to the Government." 

"Why, Colonel, that is just what we want. What is 
your regiment?" 

"The Twelfth New York State Militia, sir, of which 
I am commander." 

"But are they armed or equipped or clothed?" 

"Yes, sir, and tolerably well drilled. We foresaw some 
time ago that there might be trouble, and so we got in 
readiness to respond to any call." 

"And how soon could you get them here?" 

"Within twenty-four hours after receiving orders to 
start." 

"But how can you get through? You know communi- 
cations with New York are cut off." 

"We will march through Baltimore, sir. Or we can 
come round by sea, and up Chesapeake Bay and the 
Potomac. I have made a provisional arrangement with 
the steamer Coatzacoalco, which is all ready to bring us 
on. 



164 A College Classmate 

"Are you sure, Colonel, that the Government can rely 
on these statements of yours?" 

"I believe the Secretary of State will vouch for me, sir." 

When this assurance was confirmed, the Secretary of 
War looked much relieved. 

"Well, Colonel, your regiment will be very welcome. 
You shall have your orders, at once." 

Butterfield hurried off. When, soon after, the Twelfth 
New York came marching up Pennsylvania Avenue, it 
received an ovation of cheers, accompanied by the waving 
of flags, hats, and handkerchiefs, like all other early comers 
"to the front." 

The Twelfth was assigned to Franklin Square for its 
camp ground. Its white tents and neatly kept camps in 
the heart of the city, its well drilled companies in their 
parades and tactical exercises, drew continued throngs 
of visitors and made it a fashionable resort. Colonel 
Butterfield's prompt address and soldierly bearing made 
him a favourite at the War Department, and the Twelfth 
was one of the first to be sent out on active service. 

In May, when additional regiments were to be raised 
for the regular army. Secretary Cameron notified my 
father of officers needed for New York's quota and asked 
for names for new commissions. My father suggested 
that of Butterfield for a Major's place. Secretary Came- 
ron heartily assented, and Butterfield was appointed. 

Before the year was over, he was promoted to be a 
Brigadier-General. Then, for bravery in battle, he was 
again promoted to be Major-General, and in 1862 had 
become Chief of Staff in the Army of the Potomac. 

His subsequent career is a part of the history of the 
war. After its close, he resigned and went into business 
in New York — where, a few years later, he became Assist- 
ant Treasurer of the United States. 



General Scott 165 

Somewhere toward the close of the century, I was at- 
tending a banquet of the Alumni of Union College. But- 
terfield, as President, had on his right hand General 
Miles, then the Commander-in-Chief of the army, while 
I sat on his left. Introducing us to each other, he said: 
"General, it was my friend Fred Seward here who put 
me into the army." 

"Have you ever thought, Butterfield," said I, "where 
you would be now, if you had stayed in it?" 

"No," said he, "but, by George, I believe I would / 
have been at the head of it, — for I was Miles's senior in "^ 
service!" 

General Scott. General Scott's ser\'-ices to the Union, 
at the outset of the Civil War, have never been fully 
appreciated. His military experience and unswerving 
loyalty greatly helped to save Washington during the 
interregnum between the Presidential election and the 
inauguration. 

He was bom in Virginia, like Lee, but if his ideas of 
fidelity to the Government had been like those of his 
subordinate, Washington might have been in the hands 
of the Confederates before Lincoln was inaugurated. 

"Old Fuss and Feathers," as they called him when 
they tried to drive him out of his responsible trust, was 
inflexible in his devotion to the Union. It was not easy to 
protect the capital from its enemies plotting in its midst. 
So strong was President Buchanan's desire to avoid a 
clash of arms during his time, and so widely had the 
notion spread that the Federal Government "could not 
coerce a State," that General Scott was hardly allowed to 
order to Washington a slender guard for the inauguration 
ceremonies. As for reinforcing the Southern forts, that 
was effectively blocked by the Secessionists, until too late 
even for provisioning them. 



i66 General Scott 

After the disunion members of the Cabinet left in 
January, and Dix, Stanton, Holt, and King were among the 
President's trusted advisers, it became possible for the 
General to summon small detachments of regular troops 
and post them where they could be of service. With the 
help of Colonel Stone, he also organized an effective force 
out of loyal companies of the District militia. So that 
danger was tided over. 

The General favoured every form of conciliation that 
would avert war. When war proved inevitable, he set 
vigorously to work, in spite of his seventy-five years and 
infirmities, to maintain and defend the Union, organize 
and equip its armies, and plan its campaigns. 

After the fall of Fort Sumter, and the first call for 
troops by President Lincoln, the Confederates seized 
railroads and telegraphs, cutting off Washington from 
communication with the North. It became like a be- 
leaguered city. While hoping for and expecting its de- 
fenders, there was no assurance that they were on their 
way. The General took up his post, by night as well as 
by day, at the War Department. In the middle of one 
night, I was roused up by one of the several scouts we had 
sent out for news. 

He brought the welcome intelligence that the Eighth 
Massachusetts, the Seventh New York, and Seventy-first 
New York regiments had landed at Annapolis and were 
in possession of the navy yard. The railroad having 
been torn up by the enemy, they would march across 
country to the capital. I took the bearer of the good 
news over to the War Department, and found General 
Scott wrapped in a military cloak and stretched on a 
settee. He rose with difficulty, but was at once alert 
and ready for business. He summoned his staff, and 
before daybreak he was issuing orders about routes and 
rations, and advising how obstacles and surprises were 



General Scott 167 

to be avoided. Thenceforward every incoming regiment 
marched up Pennsylvania Avenue to salute the President 
and the Commanding General, and receive their orders as 
to their location and their duties. 

By the end of April, ten or twelve thousand troops had 
arrived and others were on their way. It was my father's 
custom, at this period, after the Department closed for 
the day, to take an afternoon drive to visit the camps of 
the different regiments. Frequently the drive was ter- 
minated by a call upon General Scott, at his office or his 
lodgings. In either place, his surroundings were those 
of active military service, the sentry pacing before his 
door, the orderly sitting in the hall, the aides-de-camp at 
their respective desks, and the General's table covered 
with maps, dispatches, and calculations. 

One day, while exchanging news and comparing views, 
my father remarked: "We are gathering a large army. 
What I do not yet foresee is how it is to be led? What 
are we to do for generals?" 

"That is a subject, Mr. Secretary," said the old com- 
mander, "that I have thought much about. If I could 
only mount a horse, I — " then checking himself, with 
a shake of his head, he added, "but I am past that. I can 
only serve my country as I am doing here now, in my 
chair." 

"Even if you had your youth and strength again, 
General, it might not be worth as much to us as your 
experience. In any case, you would need commanders 
of military training to carry out your orders." 

"There are few who have had command in the field, 
even of a brigade," said the General. "But," he added 
reflectively, "there is excellent material in the army to 
make generals of. There are good officers. Unfortu- 
nately for us, the South has taken most of those holding 
the higher grades. We have captains and lieutenants 



1 68 General Scott 

that, with time and experience, will develop, and will do 
good service." 

Proceeding to name over several officers, or West Point 
graduates, in whom he evidently felt interest and pride, 
he mentioned McClellan, Franklin, Hancock, Hooker, 
Mansfield, Sherman, Sumner, Halleck, and others actually 
or recently in the army. 

"There is one officer who would make an excellent 
general," he continued, "but I do not know whether we 
can rely on him. He lives not far away, and I have sent 
over to see. I had expected to hear from him today. 
If he comes in tomorrow, I shall know." 

" I will not ask his name until you hear from him, then, 
General, though I think I can guess whom you mean." 

A day or two later, reverting to their conversation on 
the subject, my father remarked : 

"You were expecting to hear from some officer you 
thought well of . Did you?" 

"Yes," said the General, "it was too late. He had 
decided to go 'with his State,* as the phrase is now. I 
am sorry, both on our account and on his own." 

That was the turning point in the life of Robert E. 
Lee. 

At the beginning of the conffict we had a rapidly grow- 
ing army, and capable officers to organize and drill it. 
But there was no one except General Scott to devise a 
general plan of campaign. The Administration had no 
member who had ever "set a squadron on the field," and 
our military commanders had not yet become versed in 
the problems of "great strategy." 

Scott therefore was the authority to whom all turned. 
His "plan of campaign" was submitted to the Cabinet. 
It was simple and yet comprehensive. Briefly it was, to 
fortify Washington, and mass a great army in and around 
it; this army, at the outset, to be held and used, not as 



General Scott's Stories 169 

an aggressive, but a defensive one, and as a base for expe- 
ditions elsewhere. Meantime, to begin aggressive opera- 
tions by marching another army down the Mississippi, 
clearing the river, fortifying it, and opening it to com- 
merce. This would cut the Confederacy in two, and 
weaken it, both in men and resources, for the final struggle, 
which would doubtless take place at the East. 

The plan was approved and pursued. In the coming 
months and years, there were frequent departures from 
it, due to impatience or miscalculation, and nearly all 
ending in disaster. But, reverted to again, it was, on 
the whole, the line of policy which led to ultimate success, 
by opening the way for the final ** great strategy" of 
Grant and Sherman. 

May, 1 86 1. 

General Scott's Stories. General Scott's massive mili- 
tary figure and dignified demeanour were rather awe- 
inspiring to strangers. In social life, his conversation was 
always entertaining and his anecdotes often amusing. 
One of his stories, when the subject of dreams was under 
discussion, was of an incident of the battle of Chippewa, 
in 1 8 14. 

On the eve of the engagement, for which both Americans 
and British were preparing, he was sitting in his head- 
quarters, issuing orders and arranging for the disposition 
of his forces. Unexpectedly, there appeared in the door- 
way the familiar form of a friend engaged in mercantile 
pursuits in Philadelphia. 

"Why my dear fellow," said he, "what in the world 
brings you here? Always glad to see you, — you know — • 
but really I haven't time to talk to you. It is a very in- 
opportune time for a visit. We are just on the eve of a 
battle, probably tomorrow morning. You will have to 
leave me now, and come again later." 



170 General Scott's Stories 

"Yes," his friend replied, "I understood you might be 
having some fighting about now. In fact, that was what 
brought me up here." 

"How can that be? You are a civilian, and are run- 
ning into unnecessary danger, where you can be of no 
use." 

"Don't let me interrupt you, General. Go on with 
your work. I think I'll stop over here tomorrow. I 
can get an army blanket, and lie down for the night 
anywhere out of the way." 

"But what possible object can you have in such a 
proceeding?" 

"Well, General, I have been a good deal distiurbed by 
a dream I had lately." 

"A dream? What has that to do with it?" 

"Why, I dreamed I was in a battle. And while the 
battle was going on, I ran away. Then I woke up, and 
wondered whether I really was such a coward. It has 
worried me ever since. So I came up here to see." 

The General laughed. "Why, my dear friend," said 
he, "that's nothing. Everybody runs away in their 
dreams. We are swayed by momentary impulses in our 
dreams — not by reason or judgment. That doesn't 
prove you a coward." 

"Perhaps so," his visitor said, doubtfully, "but I'd 
like to find out." 

All the General's arguments could not move him from 
his purpose. Finally he said : "Well, if you insist on stay- 
ing, there is certainly work to be done, even by civilians. 
You can serve as a volunteer aide, and I'll promise you 
that you'll get under fire." 

"Just what I want," said the visitor. 

Sure enough the battle came on, hot and heavy. All 
the General's aides were soon dashing across the field, on 
various errands. Only the volunteer was left. 



Saint Cyr Cadets 171 

"Do you think you could carry an order to Colonel 
so and so, whose regiment is posted on yonder hill?" 

"Try me." 

In another moment, he was on his way — regardless of 
the hail of bullets. Back to report, he asked for another 
order and another. So he fought gallantly all day, till 
the victory was won. 

Scott congratulated him. "Now you have found your 
true vocation. You are a soldier. I am sending my 
dispatches to the War Department, and shall ask a com- 
mission for you, on my staff." 

"Oh, thank you. General, but I am not looking for 
military glory. I have found out that I am not a coward. 
That was all I came for. I shall go back to Philadelphia 
now to my business perfectly contented and satisfied." 

And that was just what he did. 



Saint Cjrr Cadets. Once, when in France, the General 
went to make a visit to the military school of St. Cyr. 
He found a group of young cadets gathered around an 
old soldier, and listening eagerly to his stories of Napoleon's 
campaigns. He was a sergeant of the "Old Guard." 
He was telling them of the charge up the hill at the battle 
of Austerlitz. Even the "Old Guard" was twice repulsed 
with fearful slaughter, losing more than one third of its 
whole number. Then, said Frangois, "I heard the order 
of the officer reforming our lines, and saying, 'En avant, 
mes braves, that battery must be taken.' " 

"Oh, Frangois," interrupted one of the young cadets, 
"how did you feel when you heard that dreadful order?" 

"Feel," said Francois, "feel— why, I felt to the left, 
to be sure, how else should a soldier feel?" (French 
soldiers kept in touch with their comrades with the left 
elbow.) 



172 Circular Dispatch on the MiHtary Situation 

The Circular Dispatch on the Military Situation. ' ' Wars 
and rumours of wars," is but a mild expression for the 
mass of wild conflicting rumours and reports, mistakes 
and misstatements, misrepresentations and falsehoods, 
that pass under the name of "news" in time of 
war. 

So manifestly contradictory and unreliable was the 
news sent out from Washington during April and May, 
1861, that my father decided to prepare once a week a 
circular dispatch to each and all of our diplomatic repre- 
sentatives abroad, a concise and reliable statement of 
the news received by the Government, from its army and 
navy. This was entitled "The Circular Dispatch on the 
Military Situation." It was usually prepared by his own 
hand, so that it might be free from all exaggeration. It 
was continued throughout the war. 

Our ministers abroad found themselves much aided in 
their work by this weekly circular. Not only was it 
useful to them in contradicting unfounded reports, but 
foreign governments themselves soon learned that if they 
wished to keep themselves posted on the events of the 
war, they could rely on the advices received by each 
American minister for accurate facts, instead of trusting 
to the chaotic utterances of the press, or even the dis- 
patches, necessarily based on imperfect information, of 
their own legations at Washington. 

Of course, these circulars amounted in the course of 
four years to a considerable volume. Mr. Baker, in his 
fifth volume of Seward's Works, has gathered them all 
together, under the title of Diary or Notes on the War. 
Now, after the lapse of half a century, I find they offer 
a convenient compend of the history of the war. Events 
and dates are there set down in exactly the order in which 
news of them was received each week by the Government 
at Washington. 



Under Fire from a French Frigate 173 

Under Fire from a French Frigate. In the early part 
of President Lincoln's Administration, a French frigate 
(I think the Gassendi) came up the Potomac on a visit 
of observation, and lay for a time at anchor just off the 
Washington navy yard, which was then under command 
of Captain (afterwards Admiral) Dahlgren. The usual 
courtesies were exchanged between ship and shore. 

One day the French Minister, M. Mercier, brought 
her captain to present him to the Secretary of State. He 
said they would esteem it a special favour, if the President 
would visit the Gassendi and receive from her a national 
salute. It was a graceful suggestion, and would tend to 
promote international friendship. Our relations with 
the French Government had already been somewhat 
strained, and threatened to become more so. 

So the Secretary thought it would be good policy to 
accept the invitation. Mr. Lincoln expressed his willing- 
ness to go, and remarked that, as yet, he was not very 
familiar with war- vessels, and would like to see how the 
French frigate looked. 

A day was appointed, and I drove down with him to 
the navy yard. Neither of his private secretaries ac- 
companied him, but there were two other young men. 
Received with due honours at the navy yard, he was es- 
corted to the barge of the commandant, manned by half 
a dozen sailors. Captain Dahlgren himself took the tiller 
ropes, and we were pulled rapidly out toward the ship. 

She lay with her bows pointing out into the stream, so 
we approached under her stem. She was gay with bunt- 
ing in honour of her distinguished guest. Her crew were 
beat to quarters, and her commander and officers in full 
uniform were at the gangway to welcome him. Presenta- 
tions followed, drums rolled and bugles sounded, while 
the Stars and Stripes were unfurled at the top of the 
mainmast. 



174 Under Fire from a French Frigate 

Champagne and a brief conversation in the captain's 
cabin came next; then a walk up and down her decks to 
look at her armament and equipment. Though the sur- 
roundings were all new to Mr. Lincoln, he bore himself 
with his usual quiet, homely, unpretentious dignity on 
such occasions, and chatted affably with some of the 
officers who spoke English. The visit over, we were 
escorted to the side ladder, and re-embarked in our barge. 

As Mr. Lincoln took his seat in the stern he said: "Sup- 
pose we row around her bows. I should like to look at her 
build and rig from that direction." Captain Dahlgren 
of course shifted his helm accordingly. The French 
officers doubtless had not heard or understood the Pre- 
sident's remark, and supposed we were puUing off astern 
in the ordinary way. 

We had hardly reached her bow, when, on looking up, 
I saw the officer of the deck pacing the bridge, watch in 
hand and counting off the seconds, " Z7w, deux, trois,'* 
and then immediately followed the flash and deafening 
roar of a cannon, apparently just over our heads. Another 
followed, then another and another in rapid succession. 
We were enveloped in smoke and literally "under fire" 
from the frigate's broadside. Captain Dahlgren sprang 
to his feet, his face aflame with indignation, as he shouted : 
" Pull like the devil, boys ! Pull like hell ! " 

They obej'-ed with a will, and a few sturdy strokes took 
us out of danger. After he had resumed his seat and 
calmed down, I said in a low voice: "Of course those guns 
were not shotted, and we were below their range?" 

He answered, gritting his teeth, "Yes, but to think of 
exposing the President to the danger of having his head 
taken off by a wad!" 

I did not know, until he explained, that the wadding 
blown to pieces by the explosion sometimes commences 
dropping fragments soon after leaving the gun. Whether 



Why Maryland did not Secede 175 

Mr. Lincoln realized the danger or not, I never knew. He 
sat impassively through it, and made no reference to it 
afterwards. 

August, 1 86 1. 

Why Maryland did not Secede. On a bright summer 
day in 1861, callers at the White House in Washington 
were informed that the President had gone out for a drive, 
and that he was accompanied by the Secretary and Assist- 
ant Secretary of State. When more curious observers 
noted the course of the carriage, they saw that it stopped at 
the door of the headquarters of the Army of the Potomac. 
Presently, General McClellan came out and joined the 
party, taking the vacant seat. The carriage was then 
rapidly driven over toward Georgetown Heights. It was 
a natural and reasonable conclusion, that the official 
party had gone up to inspect the camps and fortifications 
now beginning to cover the hills in the direction of Ten- 
nallytown. So the event was duly chronicled in the 
press, and the statement was deemed satisfactory by the 
public. 

But, on reaching the Heights, there was no stop for 
inspection, and only cursory glances were bestowed on 
camps and troops. The occupants of the carriage had 
been generally silent while passing through the city, but 
once outside of the military lines they began to converse. 

"General Banks will be expecting us, I reckon," ob- 
served the President. 

"Yes, sir," replied General McClellan. "I have 
telegraphed him. He will meet us at his headquarters, 
at Rockville, and will provide a quiet place for conference." 

"I suppose," queried General McClellan, in turn, "that 
General Dix has his instructions also." 

"Yes," said Mr. Lincoln. "Governor Seward went 
over to Baltimore a day or two ago, and spent some hours 
with him at Fort McHenry. So he is fully informed." 



176 Why Maryland did not Secede 

"Then he will take care of the members in that part of 
the State?" 

The Secretary of State smiled: "General Dix's views 
on the subject of hauling down the American flag are 
pretty well known. He can be depended upon." 

The carriage whiried on, as fast as the rather rutty 
and broken roads would permit, until, some hours later, 
it drew up at the door of a tavern in the little village of 
Rockville, which for the time was in use by General Banks 
as his headquarters. He was in command of a district 
of rather uncertain size, with a limited force, posted to 
the best advantage to watch the river crossings. His 
aides and a squad or two of soldiers were with 
him. 

He greeted his visitors courteously, and soon after 
led the way to a small grove near by, which had shady 
seats and no obstructing bushes. Here they could con- 
verse freely, without being overheard, or even seen, unless 
they themselves noticed their observers. 

The purpose of the conference was then unfolded and 
discussed. It was in regard to a measure that it was 
thought wise not to trust to paper or to subordinates. 

The Secessionists had by no means given up the hope 
of dragging Maryland into the Confederacy. The Legis- 
lature was to meet at Frederick City on the 17th of Sep- 
tember. There was believed to be a disunion majority, 
and they expected and intended to pass an ordinance of 
secession. This would be regarded as a call to active 
revolt by many who were now submitting to Federal rule. 
In Baltimore and throughout Maryland the bloody ex- 
periences of Virginia and Missouri would probably be 
repeated. Governor Hicks was a loyal Union man, but 
would be unable to control the Legislature. The Union 
members were understood to be divided in opinion as to 
the expediency of going to Frederick to fight the proposed 



Why Maryland did not Secede 177 

ordinance, or staying away, in the hope of blocking a 
quorum. 

The Administration, therefore, had decided to take a 
bold step that would assuredly prevent the adoption of 
any such ordinance. To forcibly prevent a legislative 
body from exercising its functions, of course, savours 
of despotism, and is generally so regarded. But when, 
departing from its legitimate functions, it invites the 
public enemy to plunge the State into anarchy, its dis- 
solution becomes commendable. So the Administration 
reasoned and decided. 

As few persons as possible would be informed before- 
hand. General Dix and General Banks, commanding re- 
spectively the eastern and western portions of the State, 
were instructed to carefully watch the movements of 
members of the Legislature who were expected to respond 
to the summons to Frederick. Loyal Union members 
would not be interfered with. They would be free to 
come and go, perform their legislative duties, or stay 
away, just as they pleased. But disunion members 
starting to go there would be quietly turned back toward 
their homes, and would not reach Frederick City at all. 
The views of each disunion member were pretty well 
known, and generally rather loudly proclaimed. So 
there would be little difficulty, as Mr. Lincoln remarked, 
in "separating the sheep from the goats." 

It was late in the evening when the carriage party re- 
turned to Washington. Sentries had been posted for the 
night, but the commanding General had the countersign, 
and all reached their homes quietly without observation. 

The public anxiously awaited the coming of the eventful 
day which was to determine whether Maryland would 
sever her connection with the Union. When the time 
arrived which had been appointed for the assembling of 
the Legislature, it was found that not only was no seces- 



178 France and England vs. United States 

sion ordinance likely to be adopted, but that there seemed 
to be no Secessionists to present one. The two generals 
had carried out their instructions faithfully, and with tact 
and discretion. The Union members returned to their 
homes rejoicing. No ordinance was adopted, Baltimore 
remained quiet, and Maryland stayed in the Union. 

Of course the Administration were prepared for the 
storm of invective that was hurled at them through the 
press. Their "high-handed usiu-pation" was said to be 
paralleled only by "the acts of Cromwell and Napoleon." 
But even the denouncers were somewhat mystified as to 
the way in which things had happened. Cromwell and 
Napoleon were more spectacular, but Dix and Banks were 
equally effective. 

There are still some who unconsciously lament these 
events in the history of "My Maryland" to the melodi- 
ous strains of Lauriger Horatius. But Union men and 
disunion men alike had good reason, during the next 
three years, to thank God that Maryland had been spared 
the misery and desolation that overtook her sister Virginia. 

France and England vs. the United States. Early in 
the war, we learned through the Legation at St. Peters- 
burg that an understanding had been effected between 
the governments of Great Britain and France that they 
should take one and the same course on the subject of the 
American war, including the possible recognition of the 
rebels. Later, this understanding was distinctly avowed 
by M. Thouvenel to Mr. Sanford at Paris. 

This alliance for joint action might dictate its own terms. 
From a joint announcement of neutrality, it would be 
but a step to joint mediation or intervention; and it was 
hardly to be anticipated that the Washington Government, 
struggling with an insurrection which had rent the country 
asunder, would be willing to face also the combined power 



France and England vs. United States 179 

of the two great empires of Western Eiirope. To the 
mind of the French and EngHsh statesmen the project was 
even praiseworthy. It would stop the effusion of blood 
and increase the supply of cotton. It would leave the 
American Union permanently divided; but that was a 
consummation that European statesmen in general would 
not grieve over. 

On the morning of the 15th of June, a scene occurred 
at the State Department, which, though it has elicited 
but cursory attention from the historian, has had more 
influence on the affairs of the nation than a pitched 
battle. 

My father was sitting at his table, writing dispatches, 
when the messenger announced : 

"The British Minister is here to see you, sir, and the 
French Minister also." 

"Which came first?" 

"Lord Lyons, sir, but they say they both want to see 
you together." 

He instinctively guessed the motive for so unusual a 
diplomatic proceeding. He paused a moment, and then 
said: 

"Show them both into the Assistant Secretary's room, 
and I will come in presently." 

I was at my writing table when the two ministers en- 
tered. We exchanged the usual salutations, though I 
fancied I perceived there was an air of rather more than 
usual constraint and reserve in their manner. They sat 
down together on the sofa. 

A few minutes later, as they were sitting there side by 
side, the door opened and my father entered. Smiling 
and shaking his head, he said : 

"No, no, no. This will never do. I cannot see you 
in that way." 

The ministers rose to greet him. "True," said one 



i8o France and England vs. United States 

of them, "it is unusual, but we are obeying our in- 
structions." 

"And at least," said the other, "you will allow us to 
state the object of our visit?" 

"No," said my father. "We must start right about 
it, whatever it is. M. Mercier, will you do me the favour 
of coming to dine with me this evening? Then we can 
talk over your business at leisure. And if Lord Lyons 
will step into my room with me now, we will discuss what 
he has to say to me." 

' ' If you refuse to see us together " began the French 

envoy, with a courteous smile and shrug. 

"Certainly I do refuse to see you together, though I 
will see either of you separately with pleasure, here or 
elsewhere." 

So the interviews were held severally, not conjointly, 
and the papers which they had been instructed to jointly 
present and formally read to him were left for his informal 
inspection. A brief examination of them only was neces- 
sary to enable him to say, courteously, but with decision, 
that he declined to hear them read, or to receive official 
notice of them. 

His next dispatches to our ministers at London and 
Paris informed them of the event. To Mr. Dayton he 
said: 

"The concert thus avowed has been carried out. The 
ministers came to me together; the instructions they pro- 
posed to read to me differ in form, but are counterpart in 
effect. This is conclusive in determining this Govern- 
ment not to allow the instruction to be read to it." 

To Mr. Adams he added : 

"We should insist, in this case, as in all others, on deal- 
ing with each of these Powers alone. This Government 
is sensible of the importance of the step it takes in declin- 
ing to receive the communication." 



The French Princes i8i 

July, i86i. 

After Bull Run. From the window of the State Depart- 
ment we looked down upon a motley crowd of demoralized 
soldiers and curious civilians which thronged the streets 
for a day or two after the battle of Bull Run. Our chief 
subject of anxiety was not so much the possibility of re- 
trieving the disaster, as the certain effect that the event 
would have upon opinion in Europe. 

Meanwhile my father sat at his desk penning these 
words for his "circular dispatch on the military situation." 

"You will receive the account of a deplorable reverse 
of our arms at Manassas. For a week or two that event 
will elate the friends of the insurgents in Europe, as it 
confounded and bewildered the friends of the Union here 
for two or three days. The shock, however, has passed 
away, producing no other results than a resolution stronger 
and deeper than ever, to maintain the Union, and a prompt 
and effective augmentation of the forces for that end. 
The heart of the country is sound. Its temper is now more 
favourable to the counsels of deliberation and wisdom. 
The lesson that war cannot be waged successfully without 
wisdom as well as patriotism has been received at a 
severe cost, but perhaps it was necessary." 

The French Princes. The Emperor of the French 
was a student, as well as a sovereign. And he had con- 
vinced himself that the best and most enduring form of 
government was the imperial one. The lives of Caesar 
and of Napoleon were the models that he set up for his 
own imitation. There were other opinions in France, but 
it was realized very early in our war that he regarded 
the Republic, for which we were battling, as doomed to 
defeat. Unfriendly action by him might therefore be 
looked for, and intervention, if a pretext for it could be 
found. 



i82 The French Princes 

Among those who dissented from this opinion, it was 
rumoured that his cousin Prince Napoleon Jerome was 
an outspoken friend of the Federal Union. How far his 
views would influence the action of the Government was, 
of course, unknown. 

In August, 1861, it was announced that Prince Napo- 
leon was coming to visit the United States. Arrived off the 
Battery, in his steam yacht the Catinat, accompanied by 
the Princess Clotilde, his wife, and his suite, he spent a 
day or two in New York harbour. I was sent to wel- 
come him and invite him, on behalf of the President and 
Secretary of State, to visit Washington. 

He met me at the gangway, gave me a courteous greet- 
ing, and, in excellent English, said it would give him great 
pleasure to accept the invitation. Then, taking me aft, 
he presented me to the Princess, who was in the cabin. 

Reaching Washington a few days later, my father re- 
ceived him, and presented him to the President. A state 
dinner was given in his honour. Another at the French 
Legation was followed by one at the Secretary of State's 
residence, and that by an evening reception at which 
the diplomatic corps, cabinet officers, and military com- 
manders were present. As he stood on the hearth rug, 
wearing a white vest with red ribbon and decorations, 
and with his hands behind his back, his features, hair, 
and attitude showed a startling resemblance to the pic- 
tures of the first Napoleon, — a resemblance that he was 
said to cultivate, although he was a trifle taller than his 
uncle. 

At the President's dinner, the marine band was sta- 
tioned in the vestibule. The bandmaster was desirous 
of giving airs appropriately French, but being a German 
was not versed in Parisian politics. So, instead of the 
imperial air Partaiit pour la Syrie, he struck up, in one 
of the solemn pauses incident to every state dinner, the 



The French Princes 183 

Marseillaise. As that revolutionary lyric was tabooed 
in Paris during the Empire, a smile appeared on the faces 
of the guests, as they looked toward the Prince. He took 
it very good humouredly, saying: "Mais, oui, je siiis 
Republicain — en Amerique.'* 

Republican he certainly was, as regarded the war. His 
belief in the Union, and his cheerful talk of its coming 
triumph, were all in strong contrast to the undertone of 
despondency in the conversation of those around him. 
He was much interested in army matters, and drove out 
with my father to visit several of the camps, and study the 
character of this novel organization of citizen soldiers. 

The French Minister, M. Mercier, who still kept up 
his acquaintances with leading Confederates, now came 
to know whether there would be any objection to allowing 
the Prince to pass "through the lines," in response to an 
invitation which the Confederate generals had sent him. 
There was none, and so, accompanied by the French 
Minister, he visited the Confederate headquarters, both 
armies allowing him to pass through their lines. 

When he returned he said he had been treated with 
courtesy and hospitality. He of course refrained from 
speaking of what he had seen or heard. But it was mani- 
fest from his general conversation that his opinions on 
the outcome of the war had undergone no change. 

In another month, three princes of the royal house of 
Orleans arrived in Washington, the Prince de Joinville, 
son of King Louis Philippe, and his two nephews, the 
Comte de Paris and the Due de Chartres. The Comte de 
Paris was the lineal heir of the throne of France. Sharing 
in the traditional friendship of their house, they had 
come to proffer their services, and peril their lives for the 
Union. 

Of course they were welcomed by my father, who ar- 
ranged the preliminaries for the entrance of the young 



1 84 The French Princes 

princes into the army. They were assigned to positions 
on General McClellan's staff. 

How well and faithfully their duties were performed 
has been told by General McClellan, who wrote that : 

"Far from evincing any desire to avoid irksome, fa- 
tiguing, or dangerous duty they always sought it, and 
were never so happy as when some such work devolved 
upon them, and never failed to display the high qualities 
of a race of soldiers." 

While the army remained at Washington, they occu- 
pied a house on I Street. They were frequent visitors at 
our house. One day at lunch, my father remarked: "I 
should think your names and titles might occasion some 
embarrassment. What do your brother officers call you? " 

"Oh!" said the Due de Chartres, laughing, "that is all 
arranged. My brother is Captain Paris, and I am Cap- 
tain Charters, and we are excellent friends with all our 
comrades." 

Still another member of the family came over to enter 
the service. This was the Prince de Joinville's young son, 
the Due de Penthievre. He was placed at the Naval 
School, which, during the war, was moved to Newport. 
He subsequently entered the navy, serving with credit 
and gaining promotion. 

As the French Legation represented the imperial govern- 
ment, the members of the exiled royal family never en- 
tered it, and had no intercourse with its officials. At the 
Brazilian Legation, on the other hand, they were honoured 
and welcomed guests, the Prince de Joinville having 
married a sister of the reigning Emperor of Brazil. 

Invited on one occasion to the Brazilian Legation I 
found the dinner was a family celebration in honour of 
"Peter." Peter had come over on a cruise across the 
Atlantic, and had been intrusted with the navigation of 
a ship. He was the "navigating officer." 



Mount Vernon in War Time 185 

"So," I said, "I perceive human ambition goes in 
circles. When you are once a royal prince, the next grade 
that you can aspire to is to be a sailing master." 

"Prince," asked my father of the Prince de Joinville, 
one day at lunch, "how long do you think this Empire 
will last in France?" 

The Prince smiled, and, taking up his plate and turning 
it round, he said: "Governments in France come round, 
so, in succession. I should give the Emperor ten or twelve 
years at the most." 

The Empire fell in 1871. 

Mount Vernon in War Time. There used to be a good 
old custom on the Potomac River the observance of which 
was always impressive. When a naval vessel or a passen- 
ger steamer came abreast of Mount Vemon, the flag was 
lowered in salute, the engine stopped, and the bell tolled 
as the steamer drifted slowly past the home and grave of 
George Washington. Even during the hurry and strife 
of the Civil War, the custom was not entirely forgotten. 

While the Civil War was raging, the banks of the Poto- 
mac were the scenes of many bloody conflicts. Armed 
vessels patrolled the river. Fortifications were erected 
on its heights. Armies encamped along its shores. The 
sound of cannon or musketry daily echoed over its waters. 
Homes and fields were abandoned by their owners, for 
none felt safe against the raids of the scouting or foraging 
parties of the Union or Confederate troops. 

But there was one exception. Both sides respected 
Mount Vernon. Neither army sought to occupy or for- 
tify it. No foraging or plundering took place within its 
precincts. The old furniture stood peacefully in the old 
rooms. The old trees stood unharmed in the old groves. 
It was the one bit of neutral ground in that long and 
bloody war. Reverence for Washington's home and 



i86 The Trent Case 

memory hardly needed to be inculcated by the command- 
ers, for it was implanted in the heart of every soldier, 
whether he was a Northern man or a Southern one. 

There was a story current in those days — I do not know 
how far it was true — that the old mansion was left in 
charge of two persons, a man and his sister. He was a 
Union man. She was a sympathizer with the Confeder- 
acy. When the visitors approached from the river side, 
they were presumably from the Union gunboats, and he 
went out to meet them. When they approached from 
the landward side, they were presumably from the Con- 
federate camps, and she went out to greet them. But it 
made little difference. Whichever they were, they all 
came as friends, and were received as such. 

When Prince Jerome Napoleon, with his suite, visited 
Washington during the war, he inquired about Mount 
Vernon. "Is it in your hands, or held by the enemy?" 

"Neither, Prince," was the reply. "It is sacred, and 
treated as neutral ground." 

One of the French visitors remarked: "A present vous 
avez la guerre, mats pour lui, c'est toujours la paixJ' 

It was an augury of the coming time when we should 
find that there were some things we could not divide. 
We had found we could not divide the glory of George 
Washington. In due time we were to find that we could 
not divide the Union he had foimded, nor the Flag he had 
unfurled over it. 

1861-1862. 
The Trent Case. With the intelligence of military 
success came another piece of news, which was hailed 
with similar public rejoicing. This was the taking of 
Mason and Slidell from the British steamer Trent, and 
their incarceration at Fort Warren in Boston harbour. 
The Northern people applauded the act. Eminent pub- 



The Trent Case 187 

Heists wrote in justification of it. Official approval was 
warmly expressed at the Navy Department, and in Con- 
gress. The idea that they might be reclaimed was 
hardly mentioned. Any thought of their release was 
scouted. 

But a few days more, and the foreign mails brought the 
news of the outburst of anger in England over the Trent 
affair, and the preparations for war with America. The 
intelligence that it was regarded as not only an insult, 
but an intentional one, was received with surprise. The 
popular exultation had been over the discomfiture and 
capture of the rebel envoys. The incidental question 
as to what Great Britain would think of it had excited 
little attention. 

Doubts began to be felt, and to find expression in the 
press, as to what might be the outcome. A fall in stocks, 
and a sudden rise of the premium on gold, reflected the 
popular apprehensions. 

But as yet no one was prepared to relinqmsh the prison- 
ers. Frequent inquiries were made at the State Depart- 
ment about the line of action to be adopted, but my father 
declined to talk of the case until the expected communi- 
cation from the British Government should be received. 
Lord Lyons was equally reticent, and the newspapers 
contented themselves with speculations on the probabili- 
ties of war, and descriptions of the captives' life at Fort 
Warren, usually winding up by asserting, "Of course 
they can never be given up. The country would never 
forgive any man who should propose such a surrender." 

On the 20th of December Lord Lyons came to the De- 
partment of State. He had received from the Foreign 
Office the demand of the British Government for the 
liberation of Mason and Slidell. Before presenting it, 
he would leave with the Secretary of State a copy for 
his informal examination and perusal. This was quietly 



i88 The Trent Case 

done, and the Secretary of State commenced the draft 
of his answer before the arrival of the dispatch was gen- 
erally known in Washington. Closing his door against 
all visitors, he devoted one entire day to the preparation 
of the reply. 

It was long and carefully considered. It recited not 
orly the story of the case, but made an elaborate analysis 
and review of the principles of international law which 
seemed to bear upon it. Arriving at length at a point 
which was the gist of the whole controversy, he said: "I 
have not been unaware that in examining this question, 
I have fallen into an argument for what seems to be the 
British side of it, against my own country. But I am 
relieved from all embarrassment on that subject. I had 
hardly fallen into this line of argument when I discovered 
that I was really defending and maintaining not an exclu- 
sively British interest, but an old, honoured, and cherished 
American cause, resting not upon British authorities, but 
upon principles that constitute a larger portion of the 
distinctive policy of the United States. These principles 
were laid down for us in 1804, by James Madison, when 
Secretary of State in the Administration of Thomas Jeffer- 
son, in instructions given to James Monroe, our Minister 
to England. The ground he assumed then was the same 
I now occupy, and the arguments by which he sustained 
himself upon it have been an inspiration to me in preparing 
this reply." 

He remarked therefore: "If I decide this case in favour 
of my own Government, I must disavow its most cher- 
ished principles, and reverse and for ever abandon its 
essential policy. The country cannot afford the sacrifice. 
If I maintain those principles, and adhere to that policy, 
I must surrender the case itself. It will be seen, therefore, 
that the Government could not deny the justice of the 
claim presented to us, upon its merits. We are asked to 



The Trent Case 189 

do to the British nation just what we have always insisted 
that all nations ought to do to us." 

Adverting then to the effect of this decision upon the 
future relations of the two countries, he said: "Cases 
might be found in history where Great Britain refused 
to yield to other nations, and even to ourselves, claims 
like that which is now before us. She could in no other 
way so effectually disavow any such injury as we think 
she does by assuming now, as her own, the ground upon 
which we then stood." 

He concluded with an expression of satisfaction that 
"by the adjustment of the present case, upon principles 
confessedly American, and yet, as we trust, mutually 
satisfactory to both the nations concerned, a question is 
finally and rightly settled between them, which for more 
than half a century alienated the two countries from each 
other." 

The Cabinet meeting which considered the question 
was an anxious and earnest one. The Secretary of State 
stated the case, and gave the substance of his views in 
regard to it. Other members, not having studied the 
subject, naturally shared in the popular feeling. "At 
least," as one said, "we need not decide at once. Let us 
settle it that we won't surrender them today. We can 
meet again, and consider about it tomorrow." So the 
matter went over. 

After the other gentlemen had retired, the President 
said: "Governor Seward, you will go on, of course, pre- 
paring your answer, which, as I understand, will state the 
reasons why they ought to be given up. Now I have a 
mind to try my hand at stating the reasons why they ought 
not to be given up. We will compare the points on each 
side." 

My father heartily assented. The mutual confidence 
between the two had now grown so great, that each felt 



190 The Trent Case 

the other wotdd ask approval of nothing that was not 
sound. 

On the next day the Cabinet reassembled. The Secre- 
tary of State again read his reply. There were some expres- 
sions of regret that the step was necessary, but it was 
adopted without a dissenting voice. The council broke 
up reassured on the point that war with England was 
averted, but not without misgivings as to the temper in 
which the people would receive the decision. The Presi- 
dent expressed his approval. 

When the others were gone, my father alluded to their 
conversation of the day before. "You thought you might 
frame an argument for the other side?" Mr. Lincoln 
smiled and shook his head. *T found I could not make 
an argument that would satisfy my own mind," he said, 
"and that proved to me your ground was the right one." 

This was characteristic of Lincoln. Presidents and kings 
are not apt to see flaws in their own arguments. But 
fortunately for the Union, it had a President at this time 
who combined a logical intellect with an unselfish heart. 

On the evening of Friday, there were several guests at 
dinner at our house, among them Mr. and Mrs. Critten- 
den, and Anthony Trollope, the novelist. Afterward came 
friends who, hearing rumours of a decision in the Trent 
matter, desired to have them verified, and to thank the 
Secretary for extricating the country from its dilemma. 
Coupled with their compliments, however, were many 
regrets, that the act must inevitably doom him to un- 
popularity, since the people would resent the loss of their 
prisoners, and would deem themselves humihated by their 
surrender. "It was too bad that he must sacrifice 
himself." 

But now came the evidence of the sterling good sense 
of the American people. When the decision was an- 
nounced in the papers, its first visible effects were the relief 



The Trent Case 191 

manifested by all loyal men, and the chagrin which the 
disloyal could not conceal. Public confidence was re- 
stored and renewed. Men meeting each other in the street 
shook hands over it, and said : " Now we shall pull through." 

Down dropped the premium on gold. Up went the 
prices of United States stocks. Recruiting officers showed 
that volunteering was briskly renewed. The expected 
storm of public indignation did not come. Nobody 
seemed to feel humiliated. Nobody condemned the act 
but the sympathizers with secession, and they shook their 
heads over "Seward's infernal cunning." 

A day or two later, when the public had time to read 
the document, and the newspapers had opportunity for 
comment, it was seen that in returning Mason and Slidell 
the United States had established beyond peradventure 
the doctrine for which the War of 18 12 was fought, and 
had committed England to it also. Then the sense of 
relief gave place to exultation. Thanks and congratula- 
tions began to pour in upon the Secretary of State by every 
mail. Apparently, instead of working his ruin, it was 
likely to prove one of the most popular acts of his life. 

The morning after the Secretary's reply had been for- 
mally handed to Lord Lyons, and communicated by him 
to his Government, Captain Fox, the Assistant Secretary 
of the Navy, came for a confidential call. He warmly 
commended the decision and said : " Of course it is wise and 
right. But now, as to the actual delivery of the prisoners. 
That will be a somewhat embarrassing duty for any 
navy officer to perform. No one would like to be chosen 
for it, and I hardly know what ship or commander to 
detail for the service." 

"Of course," my father said, "it is a duty that natu- 
rally belongs to the State Department, which will take 
charge of it. Lord Lyons agrees with me that it should 
be done unostentatiously. To avoid any public demon- 



192 The Trent Case 

stration at Boston or elsewhere he will send her Majesty's 
frigate Rinaldo to any point that we may designate to 
receive the prisoners." 

Captain Fox replied that he thought Provincetown, on 
the tip end of Cape Cod, would be a safe and quiet place. 

So it was settled that the British frigate should proceed 
to Provincetown. 

I was called into the consultation, and undertook to 
find a trustworthy officer of the State Department, who 
would perform the mission with celerity, discretion, and 
secrecy. 

Mr. E. D. Webster, who had before discharged confi- 
dential missions for the Secretary, was selected. He pro- 
ceeded at once to Boston, hired a tug, and went to Fort 
Warren, without attracting any public attention. 

Captain Martin Burke, the commandant of the fort, 
was glad to be relieved of his prisoners, and helped to 
put them on board the tug. 

Mason apparently was unfeignedly glad to get out of 
confinement, but Slidell, who was more keen-witted and 
sagacious, saw that their release would end the possibility 
of the hoped-for clash between Great Britain and the 
United States, and would be a blow to the Confederacy. 
He, at first, flatly refused to be taken from Fort Warren, 
until a British ship should come there for him. Finding 
this ground untenable, and being warned that force, if 
necessary, would be used, he consented at last to go on 
board the tug. 

Webster found the trip across Massachusetts Bay 
rather rough and stormy, but uneventful, and both the 
prisoners decidedly reticent. They found the Rinaldo 
at anchor awaiting them, and her captain ready to re- 
ceive his unusual passengers with every respect and 
courtesy. 

The frigate weighed anchor at once, and proceeded to 



A Series of Victories 193 

England. So the interrupted journey begun on the Trent 
was finally completed on the Rinaldo. But it was a 
question whether the prisoners who had so warmly re- 
sisted capture by Captain Wilkes were not equally 
chagrined at their release from the custody of Captain 
Martin Burke. 

Webster was back in Washington with his report and 
engaged in his usual duties before the public had any 
wind of his errand to Cape Cod. 

February, 1862. 
A Series of Victories. Several months of the war had 

now passed. Begun without any military preparation, 
at least as far as the North was concerned, it was not 
strange that it opened with disasters. The work of en- 
listing, equipping, and training the soldiers all had to be 
done while hostilities were in active progress. But this 
period had now passed. The work had been accomplished 
with spirit and energy, and we had at last an army, with 
commanders capable of effective action. 

In his "Circular dispatch to ministers abroad " my father 
was now able to say: 

"Cloudless skies with drying winter winds have at last 
succeeded the storm which so long held our fleets in em- 
bargo, and our land forces in their camps. The Burnside 
expedition has escaped its perils and is now in activity 
on the coast of North Carolina. The victory of General 
Thomas at Mill Spring in Kentucky has been quickly 
followed by the capture of Fort Henry on the Tennessee 
River, and the interruption of the railroad, by which the 
insurgents have kept up their communication between 
Bowling Green and Columbus. . . 

"The success of the Union army in the V/est having 
brought the whole of Missouri and a large part of Ten- 
nessee under the authority of the United States, and having 



194 A Cruise between Two Armies 

already a passage opened for us into Alabama, Mississippi, 
and Arkansas, it has been determined today to permit 
the restoration of trade upon our inland ways and waters, 
under certain limitations and restrictions. 

"You will have noticed our successful advance down the 
Mississippi and along its banks. Next week we shall 
ascertain the strength of the obstructions at Memphis. 
. . . General Butler, with an adequate land force, and 
Captains Farragut and Porter with a fleet, are already in 
motion to seize and hold New Orleans." 

A month later he continued: "The events of the week 
have been striking and significant, the capture of New- 
bem by Bumside, with the consequent evacuation of 
Beaufort and Fort Macon by the insurgents and the de- 
struction by themselves of their own steamer Nashville — 
the rout of the insurgents on their retreat from Winchester 
to Strasburg by General Shields — the victory of General 
Pope at New Madrid and the bombardment of Island No. 
ID by Commodore Foote." 

A few weeks later, he continued: "The victories of 
Fort Henry, Fort Donelson, the occupation of Bowling 
Green, Nashville, Murfreesboro, and Columbus, the cap- 
ture of the fortified position of Island No. 10 in the Missis- 
sippi, with one hundred heavy guns, thirty pieces of field 
artillery, and six thousand prisoners, are the events of 
the week. Today the country is assuming that the fate 
of this unnatural war is determined by the great event of 
the capture of New Orleans, which was effected by a naval 
expedition on the 24th." 

May, 1862. 

A Cruise between Two Armies. The tide of success 

seems now to be flowing in our direction. General Mc- 

Clellan is marching up the Peninsula toward Richmond, 

and General McDowell is opening his way downward from 



A Cruise between Two Armies 195 

Fredericksburg. Our fleets are patrolling the Potomac, 
controlling the entrances of the Rappahannock, the York, 
the James, and the Elizabeth rivers, and mustering in 
force at Hampton Roads. 

The Secretary of the Navy deems this a favourable 
time for an inspection of the fleets, and observation of the 
progress of the joint operations of army and navy. He 
has invited his colleagues, the Secretary of State and 
the Attorney-General, to accompany him. Some of the 
members of their families and of the official staff of their 
Departments will be of the party. 

Monday. 

The river steamboat City of Baltimore, which has been 
fitted up for naval patrol and blockade duty, has been 
selected as the one for this special cruise. Captain Dahl- 
gren will be in command. She carries, for protection 
against attack, two field howitzers, with muskets and 
cutlasses for the crew. 

The voyage should be an instructive one as a sort of 
reconnoissance, enabling us to more fully comprehend 
the relative position and strength of our own forces and 
those of the Confederates. 

Tuesday. 

The Navy Department, of course, will be left in charge 
of Captain Fox, during the absence of Secretary Welles. 
Mr. Hunter will take charge of the Department of State. 

We go on board this afternoon. Our party consists 
of Mr. and Mrs. Welles and niece, Mr. Attorney-General 
Bates, Mr. Faxon, Chief Clerk of the Navy Department, 
and his son. Dr. and Mrs. Whelan, of the Navy De- 
partment, and their son, Mrs. Goldsborough and Miss 
Goldsborough, wife and daughter of the Commodore, and 



196 A Cruise between Two Armies 

Mr. Goldsborough, the Commodore's brother, — all naval 
people except Mr. Bates and ourselves. 

We have two pilots and thirteen sailors, two howitzers 
and two dozen muskets. We have as stewards Wormley 
and his cook and waiters, and we carry coal and provisions 
for a week. 

Wednesday morning. 
Leaving the Navy Yard yesterday afternoon, we came 
down the Potomac, passing the evening in looking at 
Fort Washington, Alexandria, Mount Vernon, White 
House Point, Shipping Point, Budd's Point, and Martha's 
Point, famous for their Confederate batteries — all now 
deserted. We slept peacefully through the vo3^age during 
the night down the lower Potomac. This morning we woke 
up in the York River, between the earthworks of Yorktown 
on one side and Gloucester on the other. 

Wednesday night. 

This day has been spent on the York River and the 
Pamunkey. We passed on up the York River, full of 
transport and provision ships, and saw the white flags 
waving from the houses on either shore. 

We reached West Point at noon, and found there the 
gunboats and Franklin's battleground. Then we passed 
on, up the Pamunkey, a stream as large as the Hudson 
at Troy, and so winding that you go three miles to advance 
one. We saw deserted houses, no whites, but many 
negroes, who bowed and grinned obsequiously when they 
saw the national flag. At three o'clock we reached Cum- 
berland. There we found a clearing in the woods con- 
taining two houses, suddenly transformed into a great 
city of a hundred thousand people by the advent of Mc- 
Clellan's army and its supporting fleet. 

The General and his staff, with the French princes. 



A Cruise between Two Armies 197 

Major Palmer, and several other Washington acquaint- 
ances, came on board, and then took us ashore, up and 
down the hills, through the camps, the Secretaries review- 
ing ten or twelve thousand of Porter's and Franklin's men. 
At night, the long lines of lights on the shore, the ship- 
ping and bustle in the river, made it almost impossible 
to believe we were not in the harboiir of Philadelphia or 
New York. 

Thursday. 

We passed safely down again through the sunken ships 
with which the Secessionists supposed they had obstructed 
the river, and woke up again this morning off Yorktown. 

Proceeding on our way again in a drizzling rain, we 
reached Fortress Monroe about noon. Here we found 
spread out before us a great fleet at anchor in the Roads. 

Thursday evening. 

On arriving, we ran alongside the flagship Minnesota, 
and took Commodore Goldsborough and his lieutenant, 
and Mr. Tucker, Assistant Secretary of War, on board. 

Then we steamed on, passing the Vanderbilt, the Arago, 
the Ericsson, the gunboats and the transports which 
crowded the Roads, and so past Sewall's Point and 
Craney Island, and the sunken Merrimac, up the Elizabeth 
River to Norfolk. 

Wrecks of vessels destroyed by the Secessionists lay 
in the channel. The hulk of the old frigate United States 
lay moored, ready to be sunk, but not sunk, because they 
left it in too much haste. 

We dined, and then, as the rain had stopped, went to 
the wharf, and sent for General Viele, the Military Gover- 
nor, one of my old schoolmates in Albany. He and his 
staff came on board, and after a little, a crowd gathered 
on the wharf, sullen and sour and curious. 



198 A Cruise between Two Armies 

The General pointed out one or two Union men, who 
had stood firm through the long night of secession, and 
they were called up on board to be congratulated. One 
biirst into tears on finding himself once more among 
loyal men, under the old flag, and all were almost de- 
mented with joy. 

We went ashore and walked up and down the streets : 
all the shops shut up, all the doors and windows of private 
houses closed, all the population idle, a sentry at each 
corner, a patrol in each street, no woman visible, and no 
man, except now and then some exultant Unionist, ven- 
turing to say a word. 

"Do you see me," said one, taking off his hat. "They 
beat me and robbed me, and drove me from town, six 
months ago, because I wouldn't hurrah for their cursed 
flag. I've just come back home today. They hate to 
see me in their streets as much as they hate to see you. 
But the sight of the old flag and the sound of Hail Columbia 
here pays me for all I've suffered." 

Returning on board, we steamed up to the frigate Sus- 
quehanna and cast anchor for the night. She manned her 
yards and fired a salute in compliment to the Secretaries, 
while Norfolk sank into darkness lilce a city of the dead, 
in strong contrast with the magic town sprung from 
nought where we passed last night. 

Friday. 
This morning we steamed on up the river to the navy 
yard. Portsmouth, inhabited mostly by working people, 
is more loyal than Norfolk, and such as could get a Union 
flag hung it out from their trees or chimneys. The Sus- 
quehanna's band was on board, and, not desiring to 
parade oiu: triumph or gall the people's feelings, they were 
told to play only airs without significance. But the 
people who ran along the shore and cheered, called out : 



A Cruise between Two Armies 199 

"Oh! play the Star Spangled Banner! Do let us hear 
the Star Spangled Banner once more." 

And when they heard it, they shouted and cried, and 
waved their hats, handkerchiefs, and anything they could 
get; and seemed to be willing to follow for any distance, 
to hear it still. The coloured folks were especially in 
their glory — such an amount of coloured chuckling and 
laughing had not transpired in Portsmouth for a year 
at least. 

We landed at what was the navy yard, and is now a 
mass of smoking ruins. Long rows of crumbling walls, 
and roofless, empty, charred brick buildings, piles of still 
smoking ashes, docks and wharves torn up by gunpowder, 
wrecks of vessels burned to the water's edge, cover many 
acres. 

A Massachusetts regiment was encamped among the 
ruins, and one man, with Yankee readiness, had contrived 
to establish a blacksmith shop out of the fragments, and 
was driving a successful business, mending guns and shoe- 
ing horses. A huge gun, burst in the middle, was recog- 
nized as one which a ball from the Cumberland destroyed 
on board the Merrimac, and Captain Dahlgren found it 
one of his own make. The soldier who stood guard over 
it asked me if I remembered, about eighteen months ago, 
reading in the newspapers of a Boston shoemaker, cruelly 
beaten and tarred and feathered in Savannah for supposed 
"abolitionism." I told him I remembered printing it in 
the Albany Journal. 

"I am that shoemaker," said he. "I enlisted in the 
first Massachusetts regiment I could find, and I have got 
so far on my way back to Savannah to see those gentlemen 
again." 

Returning to our boat, we found Captain Hewett, of 
the British steamer Rinaldo, who had come to pay his 
respects to the Secretary of State. The Rinaldo took 



200 A Cruise between Two Armies 

Slidell and Mason when they were released from Fort 
Warren; and is now returned to Norfolk. 

We steamed down the river again, stopping to look at 
the deserted rebel fortifications on Craney Island and 
Sewall's Point, and to get a piece of the wreck of the 
Merrimac, — and so on to Fortress Monroe — landed again 
— were received by General Wool with a salute and all the 
honours — went on board the Minnesota — were received by 
the Commodore with a salute and all the honours there — 
examined her armament, her five hundred men, her depths 
of decks below decks, and machinery below them all — 
and now we are returned to the wharf of the fort, where 
we are to sleep tonight. 

Saturday. 

Saturday Commodore Goldsborough had fixed upon 
for an expedition up the James River, to attack and 
destroy the fortifications which the Monitor and Galena 
had run by without reducing. At seven in the morning 
the ships got under way in order of battle — a magnificent 
sight. A large steam tugboat, under command of Lieu- 
tenant Selfridge, with one large gun, led the way, to open 
the attack, then at about an eighth of a mile behind came 
the Dacotah, an equal distance behind her the Susque- 
hanna, with the blue pennant of the Commodore, then 
behind her the Wachusett, and behind her the Maratanza. 
Last of all followed our boat. 

We passed on up the river fifteen miles. We found the 
first battery at Day Point ; reconnoitered with the glass ; 
found it deserted and passed on. A few miles farther up, 
the telescope showed a secession flag still waving over 
"Fort Huger" on Hardy's Bluff. 

We saw the signals hoisted on the flagship, heard the 
drums beat to quarters, and saw the guns run out, as the 
whole fleet slowly steamed up in line toward the fort. 



A Cruise between Two Armies 201 

Presently a puff of white smoke from the tug, and then 
the dull report of her gun. No reply from the fort. Then 
the Dacotah veered slightly; and a larger puff of smoke 
from her, followed by a louder report. A second after, 
we saw the shell burst over the fort. Then the Susque- 
hanna opened with her hundred pounders, of which we 
could see the flash as well as the smoke. Then the Mara- 
tanza, just before us ; and we saw the shells go, tearing up 
the earth of the fort in a shower. Still no reply. The 
flagship again signalled, the firing ceased, and a small boat, 
filled with sailors and marines, with cutlasses and muskets, 
pushed off from each vessel. 

They landed, and ran up the bank like mad. Presently, 
we saw the flag, staff and all, come down with a crash and 
a hurrah. Then it went up again with the Stars and 
Stripes substituted, and then another cheer. Then the 
sailors returned, and the tug came alongside with an officer 
to report that the enemy had evacuated the battery, 
leaving all the guns, some shotted and ready for use, 
their stores, their dinner half eaten, and the flag nailed 
to the staff. 

So the James River was opened. We started again up 
the river, but found nothing for some miles. At last, two 
steamers carrying the Union flag hove in sight around a 
point. They fired a gun when they saw us. We hailed 
them, and sent for the commanding officer to come on 
board. He came, a young lieutenant, the commander 
having been wounded in a battle near Richmond. His 
boat was the Port Royal, the other the Naugatuck. He 
told us of the repulse at Fort DarHng, and then went on 
down to report to the Commodore, who came on board for 
a consultation as to what next. 

About dusk we started up again, to try to go up as far 
as Jamestown, to see the ruins of historic interest. Three 
of the gunboats went along to convoy us in safety. But 



202 A Cruise between Two Armies 

the channel was crooked and shallow, and the pilot new. 
The Wachusett went aground ; then the Port Royal. We 
left the Maratanza trying to draw her comrades off, and 
went on alone. The shores were dark and desolate, the 
river without a craft, and the night still and silent. Pre- 
sently we went aground, but in a quarter of an hour we 
were off again. 

About eleven o'clock Captain Dahlgren announced 
that we were off Jamestown, though the river and shore 
looked as dark and desolate there as anywhere else. To 
guard against surprise, the lights were all put out, the 
howitzers loaded, the muskets distributed to the crew, 
and the steam kept up, ready for a start at a moment's 
notice. But nobody disturbed us. 

Sunday. 

At daylight we were up to see Jamestown. The whole 
of it consists of a ruined brick doorway of the old church 
where Captain John Smith worshipped. There was one 
house nearby, and an earthwork for a fort, from which 
smoke was ascending. We sent a boat ashore. They 
found the house and fort both empty; two dogs and two 
"contrabands" were the only living beings. The "con- 
trabands" reported that the people in the house and in 
the earthwork, alarmed by our boat, had fled in the night. 
They, the "contrabands," asked to come on board; so 
the sailors brought them. 

Soon after, a large boat was seen pulling down from the 
direction of the rebel lines. Spy-glasses were brought 
into requisition. The boat was heading directly for the 
steamboat, but whether its occupants were armed could 
not, at first, be ascertained. Presently an officer re- 
marked: "I think they are all black, sir," — a welcome 
announcement; for in that case they were all friends. 

Sure enough, when it came nearer and drew alongside, 



A Cruise between Two Armies 203 

the boat was seen to be filled with thirteen men, one wo- 
man, and two children, in shabby clothes, but having 
neither arms, provisions, nor plunder. Not a word was 
spoken, as they pulled fearlessly up to the gangway, until 
the leader stood up and was preparing to climb on board. 

"Ahoy, there," called out the officer of the deck. 
"Who are you? Where are you going?" 

The answer was respectful but sententious. "Going 
along with yous, Mas'r." 

"But you don't know where we're going. Don't you 
see that we are headed toward Richmond? What made 
you come to us?" 

The coloured spokesman grinned and pointed upward. 

"Ain't afraid to go nowhar' with you, Mas'r, under 
dat flag." 

So they set their boat adrift, and confided their lives 
and fortunes to our charge. The woman was as white as 
Louisa, and the children whiter still. They said they 
were slaves of Colonel Millroy and Colonel Stratton of 
the Confederate army; that their masters had carried off 
the corn to the mountains in North Carolina, and were 
going to take them there. So they took a boat out of a 
pond, carried it in the night on their shoulders, launched 
it on the James River, and met us. One of them said his 
master "swore up to his waist" when he told them he was 
going to take them to Carolina. 

We turned our steamer down the river again — passed on 
without incident, except the discovery of plenty of Con- 
federate barracks, sheds, and fortifications — all deserted — • 
rejoined the fleet, stopped at Newport News to pay a visit 
to General Mansfield, were received with salutes, etc., 
saw the wrecks of the Cumberland and Congress, the hole 
made in General Mansfield's room by a shell from the 
Merrimac, and finally returned to Fortress Monroe at 
noon. Captain Gautier, of the French frigate Gassendi, 



204 A Season of Reverses and Depressions 

came on board to pay us a visit. We landed our "contra- 
bands" to go to work in the navy yard, except the woman 
and children, whom we decided to bring to Washington. 

Monday. 

We left Fortress Monroe last evening, had an unevent- 
ful voyage up Chesapeake Bay and the Potomac during 
the night, and have arrived here safe and well today. 

I cannot close this chronicle of our "Cruise" better 
than by quoting my father's comment on it in a letter to 
his daughter Fanny: 

"Our excursion into Virginia was very interesting and 
very instructive. We saw war, not in its holiday garb, 
but in its stern and fearful aspect. We saw the desola- 
tion that follows, and the terror that precedes its march. 
We saw, in the relaxation of African bondage, and the 
flight of bondsmen and bondswomen with their children, 
how Providence brings relief to some out of the crimes 
and sufferings of our common race. 

"All the hopes and fears and anxieties of this unhappy 
strife renew themselves at this moment, and cluster about 
the armies at Richmond and Corinth. The public mind, 
accustomed to successes, is little disturbed — but for one 
who has such responsibilities as mine, there is nothing but 
unwearied watchfulness. I believe that the good cause 
will prevail, but I know very well that it must encoimter 
occasional reverses. I prepare to meet them." 

July, 1862. 
A Season of Reverses and Depression. When the news 
came of the "Seven Days' Battles" on the Peninsula, the 
first effect on the popular mind was that of incredulity and 
bewilderment. Then succeeded conflicting arguments 
over contradictory reports, and then followed general 
consternation and alarm. It was claimed that McClellan 



A Season of Reverses and Depression 205 

had only made a "change of base." But the "change of 
base" was evidently compulsory. The base might be a 
better one, but it was one he was forced to take. Every 
one of the battles was claimed to have ended in a victory, 
yet the general character of the movement was very like 
a retreat. The army had behaved with great gallantry 
and bravery, and the loss of life was fearful. But what 
had been gained or lost? Perhaps a humorous bit in 
Vanity Fair well enough expressed the state of the public 
mind. Its war correspondent "MacArone" said: "Yes, 
my boy, we have had a great victory. And now we want 
to know who is to blame for it ! Believe nothing about the 
army until you Gee it in the newspapers. P. S. Believe 
nothing that you do see in the newspapers." 

General Heintzelman, afterwards, speaking of the move- 
ment, said he had always seen the train of stragglers and 
camp followers moving behind the army, but this time 
they went ahead. 

There were frequent and anxious meetings of the Cabi- 
net, and a general command over all the land forces of the 
United States was given to Major-General Halleck, who 
came from the Western Department to the capital. It 
was evident that a new appeal to the country for ad- 
ditional troops was necessary. The Secretary of State 
went to New York to summon a conference of all the loyal 
governors, and to ascertain from them how many it was 
safe to call for. He telegraphed the result of this confer- 
ence and thereupon the President issued his proclamation 
for three hundred thousand men. The response to this 
proclamation was more favourable than could have been 
anticipated. On it was based the celebrated lyric : ' ' We 
are coming, Father Abraham, three hundred thousand 
more!" 

The "Circular on the military situation" continued 
its chronicle of events, saying: "General Halleck, upon 



2o6 Farmers' Boys in Battle 

taking command of the army, made a careful survey of 
the entire mihtary position, and concluded thereupon to 
withdraw the Army of the Potomac from the Peninsula, 
and to combine all our forces in front of Richmond. The 
measure was a difficult and delicate one." 

Three weeks later the "Circular" contained this: 
" Military affairs here have taken an unfavourable direc- 
tion during the last three weeks. The Army of the 
Potomac, which was in command of General McClellan, 
having evacuated its position on the James River, reached 
the Potomac, near Alexandria, unpursued and in safety. 
"The Army of Virginia, under General Pope, which 
was advanced to the Rappahannock, was flanked by the 
insurgents, in large force, and retired to Manassas. Here 
it became involved in a series of severe engagements. 
Meantime the insurgents, executing a long-cherished 
design, advanced on the south side of the upper Potomac, 
which at this season is fordable at many points, and, 
crossing it at and above Edwards Ferry, occupied 
Frederick. When there, menacing equally Washington, 
Baltimore, and Harrisburg, they put forth an appeal to 
the people of Maryland, to rise and join in the insur- 
rection. Our troops having recovered from a temporary 
disorganization, an army was immediately organized and 
dispatched, under General McClellan, to meet the insur- 
gents at Frederick." 

June and July, 1862. 
Farmers' Boys in Battle. Those were gloomy days 
in Washington, during the latter part of June, in 1862. 
High expectations had been suddenly extinguished by 
the reverses in the campaign on the Peninsula. Union 
men were disappointed and discouraged. " Copperheads" 
were elated. Censures and complaints were rife. Ru- 
mours of disaster multiplied. 



Farmers' Boys in Battle 207 

The Cabinet realized that the situation had become 
critical. They knew also of dangers that, as yet, the 
general public were not aware of. Recruiting had fallen 
off. The army itself was melting away, under the influ- 
ence of casualties, desertions, discharges, and disease. 
Large and speedy reinforcements were needed. How 
could they be obtained? The reports from the recruit- 
ing officers showed that popular feeling was even more 
despondent in the great cities than in the country at large. 

There were frequent conferences at the War Depart- 
ment. Stanton was sending forward regiments, rations, 
and supplies as rapidly as they could be obtained. The 
President spent many hours there daily, so as to be in 
immediate touch with the telegraph, bringing good news 
and bad, and in consultation with the Secretary and the 
military commanders. The Secretary of State arranged 
to go north, to try to rouse popular feeling, hoping by 
cooperation with the loyal governors and public bodies 
to hasten the progress of enlistments, and, if possible, 
to convert despondency into renewed enthusiasm. 

Before starting for New York, he invited the members 
of the New York delegation in the House of Represen- 
tatives to an afternoon conference at his house. Congress 
was near the end of its session. Its work had been practi- 
cally done. It had aided the Government with such 
legislation and appropriations as were practicable. 

He suggested that they could now best help the Union 
cause by hastening homeward, without waiting for the 
adjournment, and endeavouring to aid in the work of 
raising and sending forward the new troops so greatly 
needed. 

His suggestion met with hearty response. Such mem- 
bers as could be spared from committee labours agreed 
to go at once. Several believed they could do effective 
work in that way. Some even declared they could organ- 



2o8 Farmers' Boys in Battle 

ize new regiments, and bring them to Washington them- 
selves before the reassembHng of Congress. Wheeler, 
Pomeroy, Van Valkenburg, Diven, and others started 
home for this patriotic duty. 

They accomplished it with speed and zeal, and the regi- 
ments they raised were among the first of that great army 
that soon was chanting, in response to the President's 
proclamation : 

"We're coming, Father Abraham, three hundred 
thousand more." 

Two of the members whose districts adjoined each 
other. Van Valkenburg and Diven, agreed to combine 
their efforts, and so hasten the mustering of the first 
regiment. It was a proud day for them when they 
marched it along Pennsylvania Avenue, a thousand 
strong, with the two Congressmen at its head, as Colo- 
nel and Lieutenant-Colonel. They gave the President a 
marching salute, and then were speedily hurried north- 
ward to overtake and join the reorganized Army of the 
Potomac, which was following Lee up into northern 
Maryland. 

They arrived while Lee and McClellan were confront- 
ing each other, apparently on the eve of battle in the 
vicinity of Sharpsburg. 

The Colonel presented himself at headquarters to 
announce their arrival and report for duty. General 
McClellan received him. 

"Your regiment are raw recruits, I believe, Colonel?" 

"Yes, General, and the officers are about as raw as the 
men. Hardly a veteran among them. Many of them 
farmers* boys who have never handled a musket. But 
they saw their fathers and older brothers 'go to the front ' 
last year, and they are eager to follow their example." 

"Are they armed and equipped?" 

"Yes, fully. Secretary Stanton saw to that." 



Farmers* Boys in Battle 209 

"Have they had any drills, at all?" 

"Hardly any. Hastily organized and lacking time 
and drill-masters." 

"What can they do?" 

"Why, they are ready and willing to do anything they 
can, if somebody will show them how." 

"Can they support a battery, do you think?" 

"I do not believe I quite know what that is myself, 
General." 

"Why, a battery of artillery is posted, say on yonder 
hill, to throw shot and shell at the enemy. If the enemy 
see that it is exposed, with no large infantry force to pro- 
tect it, they will probably send out cavalry to capture it 
by a dash or break it up. What you would have to do 
would be to draw your regiment up in line and in rear of 
the battery, so as to defend it, if attacked, and perhaps 
discourage attempts to attack it. Can you do that?" 

"Oh, yes. General, they can do that. They know how 
to stand in line, at least." 

"Very well, then, your orders will reach you this even- 
ing. Don't let your men break, if you can help it, Colonel. 
If you are attacked — do the best you can." 

In the grey of the early morning, a battery of light 
artillery was occupying the crest of the hill, and the 
"regiment of farmers' boys" was drawn up in line behind 
it. The artillery duel began, and was echoed by other 
artillery duels going on, at right and left, on other similar 
heights. A broad stretch of country was exposed to view. 
Moving bodies of troops in the distance with puffs of 
smoke rolling ever them, followed by roar of cannon or 
rattle of musketry, made it an exciting and even exhilarat- 
ing spectacle — though its method or plan was unintelligible 
to the spectator. 

At first there seemed to be little hint of danger to the 
new soldiers. But presently they began to hear the whis- 
14 



210 Farmers' Boys in Battle 

tling of bullets in the air overhead, or saw them tearing 
up the ground at their feet. Evidently, the Confederate 
sharpshooters were "getting the range." Soon a soldier 
dropped his musket and fell with a groan, a spurt of blood 
on his uniform showing where he was hit. The Colonel 
ordered two of his comrades to take him to the improvised 
hospital in the rear. Before they returned to the ranks, 
a similar "casualty" occurred at another part of the long 
line. They were "under fire." 

The Colonel and Lieutenant-Colonel strode up and 
down in front of the line, from end to end, with brief 
words of encouragement. "Steady, boys, steady." 
"Stand firm." "Keep to the ranks." "You're doing 
your duty." "Don't forget you're defending the old 
flag." "Whatever happens to us, we mustn't let that 
battery be taken." The men looked at each other and 
at their officers, as they saw their comrades fall, but said 
little. One muttered: "I wish the Johnny Rebs would 
charge, or we could. I'd rather fall fighting than stand 
here to be shot at." 

And now the fire grew hotter and fiercer. Not only 
hissing bullets, but screaming, bursting, death-dealing 
shells began to come over from the enemy's lines. Killed 
and wounded men lay on the grass at their feet. "Hell 
had broke loose." 

An aide-de-camp, carrying orders to some distant regi- 
ment, came galloping past, in their rear. Without stopping 
his gallop, he shouted as he went by: 

"You d d fools, why don't you lie down?" 

It was a rough but welcome salutation. They had 
not supposed they could lie down. Even the Colonel 
had not known that to be any part of the game. 

Availing himself of the implied order to "get under 
cover," he ordered the regiment to assume a less exposed 
attitude, telling them to continue to show enough of 



Farmers' Boys in Battle 211 

themselves, or of their caps and bayonets, to let the enemy- 
see that they were still there, and ready to resist attack 
and "protect the battery." In this recumbent position, 
the casualties were much less frequent. Bullets whistled 
over them and fragments of shell passed by them, that 
would have killed them, if they had remained standing. 

The horrible storm continued for hours, but at last it 
began to vshow signs of slackening. Word passed from 
man to man, and from regiment to regiment, that the 
enemy were falling back, perhaps preparing to retire from 
the field. 

The rumours increased in number and persistence, 
until at last, as the sun was setting, news came that General 
McClellan announced a success. The Union army had 
won a victory, and it would be known in history as the 
" Battle of Antietam " ! 

In the evening, brigade and regiment commanders were 
summoned to headquarters, to report the casualties and 
experiences of their respective commands. The Colonel 
found an excited and joyous crowd of officers exchanging 
congratulations, and explaining the bandages and slings 
that some of them were wearing. General McClellan 
seized him by both hands. 

"Colonel, your regiment behaved splendidly. Never 
saw raw troops do better. They held their ground like 
veterans. How did you manage to keep them so firm 
and steady?" 

The modest Colonel said: "Well, General, perhaps it 
was partly due to our ignorance of the art of war. We 
did not know how to run away. We were put there 
to support the battery, and so we just stayed on do- 
ing it." 

The General smiled. "Your farmers' boys are good 
fellows. They will make a fine regiment, and have an 
honourable record. Give them my congratulations." 



212 The Military Situation 

February, 1863. 

The Military Situation. At the close of the second year 
of the war, and the beginning of the third, the aspect of 
the military situation was still indecisive. The victories 
of Antietam and South Mountain had restored the popular 
confidence, and recruiting was going on briskly. But 
the two great armies, face to face with each other across 
the Rappahannock, seemed inclined neither to advance 
nor retreat. At the West, Vicksburg still held out against 
a protracted siege. The Union troops were making 
active movements with the general result of gaining 
ground. The Southerners gained no new ground, but 
stubbornly held their own. 

As the winter wore on, there were two favourable and 
two unfavourable movements. General Burnside, who 
was now in command of the Army of the Potomac, 
crossed the river and made an attack upon the Confeder- 
ates, but was repulsed with heavy loss, and retired to his 
former position. In like manner. General Sherman made 
an unsuccessful assault upon Vicksburg, hoping to carry 
the fortifications by storm. Repulsed, his army retired, 
and under the command of General Grant resumed the 
siege. The two victories to offset these defeats were a 
victory by General Rosecrans at Murfreesboro, and the 
capture of Arkansas Post with a large amount of military 
stores by General McClernand. 

Meanwhile the Government was continually adding 
vessels to the navy, and had commenced the construction 
of ironclads to take part in the blockade. But the 
South was also active in this direction, chartering and 
constructing numerous blockade runners, and, having 
British sympathy on its side, had no difficulty in raising 
loans, and purchasing arms and supplies. American 
merchant vessels were exposed to capture by the enemy's 
privateers or vessels of war, and so the American mer- 



Our Foreign Relations in the War 213 

chant marine sustained a blow from which it has never 
recovered. 

Our Foreign Relations in the War. As the progress 
of the war developed new opportunities, redoubled energy 
and daring were shown in blockade running enterprises, 
as well as in sending information and supplies to the in- 
surgents through the Union lines. The Southerners natu- 
rally hated the blockade. The British as naturally shared 
in that feeling. The South encouraged communication 
in every possible way with England, while the North had 
for its own safety to impose a vexatious system of pass- 
ports, police surveillance, frontier guards, and blockading 
squadrons. 

Arrests and seizures were of frequent occurrence. Then 
the Secessionists would avail themselves of the protection 
of European governments for those engaged in these enter- 
prises. Havana, Nassau, and the towns on the Canadian 
frontier became favourite points of rendezvous. They 
could meet, consult, and mature their plans with impunity, 
and could find there many whom cupidity or love of 
adventure would lead to join them. 

The authorities, both British and Spanish, were jealous 
of interference by United States officers with any vessels 
or persons under their jurisdiction. The vessels and men 
engaged, if successful, loudly boasted of their connection 
with the rebels, but when intercepted or captured declared 
themselves "neutrals" and claimed the protection of 
foreign governments. 

An infinite variety of questions arose, and the shelves of 
the Department of State to this day groan under the bur- 
den of the documents and discussions to which they gave 
rise. Many of the cases, arising under novel conditions 
of modern warfare, were without any precedent to govern 
their decision. Yet it was necessary, not only to render 



214 Our Foreign Relations in the War 

exact justice, but to do it in a way that should not offend 
the roused susceptibilities either of the American or the 
foreign nation. 

Sometimes a single seizure would give rise to half a 
dozen different questions, while the "Laird rams," the 
Florida and the Alabama, came up, in one shape or another, 
by every foreign mail. 

The Queen's proclamation of "belligerent rights" was 
claimed as a convenient screen for all kinds of daring 
enterprises. They were further encouraged and stimu- 
lated by London insurance companies. Those engaged in 
them often obtained insurance on their vessels and cargoes 
at Lloyds and other offices, at fifteen per cent, for running 
in, and fifteen per cent, for coming out. Insurers were 
tempted to share in these ventures by the enormous profits, 
while the shippers and merchants made money if even 
but half of their vessels got safe into port. 

Unusual activity and unwonted industry pervaded the 
Washington legations of all the maritime Powers. The 
attaches of the British Legation found themselves as 
busy as hard-working attorneys' clerks. A dozen commu- 
nications a day would frequently pass between the Lega- 
tion and the Department. There were vessels unlawfully 
detained, on suspicion of running the blockade; vessels 
lawfully captured in attempting to run it; rebel cruisers 
receiving aid and comfort in colonial ports ; Federal cruisers 
in the same ports denied ordinary courtesy; rebel ships 
escaping the vigilance of British authorities; British ships 
complaining of the surveillance of American ones; prison- 
ers wanting to be released on taking the oath of allegiance ; 
prisoners taking it and breaking it as soon as released ; 
seamen claiming exemption because they were British 
subjects; claims of shipowners for damages; intercepted 
dispatches; vessels wrongly seized, or rightly seized but 
wrongly dealt with ; customs regulations not in accordance 



Our Foreign Relations in the War 215 

with treaties; customs decisions not in accordance with 
facts; duties that ought to be refunded; duties that ought 
not to be collected; foreign subjects claiming exemption 
from draft; enlisted soldiers claiming release as foreigners 
after having spent their bounty money; officers arrested 
as spies and spies escaping as clergymen ; rifles shipped as 
farming implements, and gunpowder as white lead; rebel 
munitions of war purporting to be "arms for the Indians" ; 
and treasonable documents pretending to be "Bibles for 
the heathen." 

The French Government, like the British, had no faith 
that our national Union would ever be restored, and from 
time to time manifested its impatience at the continu- 
ance of what it deemed our hopeless struggle. On at 
least seven different occasions, the preliminary steps 
towards intervention were taken, and only checked by 
diplomatic address on the part of the United States, or 
by news of success of the Union arms. 

First was the project of joint action with Great Britain 
already described. This was nipped in the bud in 1861. 

Then the plan to make common cause with Great Brit- 
ain in the "Trent Affair." This was thwarted by the 
diplomatic settlement. 

Next the notice given to the United States, that the 
manufacturing and commercial classes of France were 
suffering from the depression caused by the blockade, 
which prevented the export of cotton, and the import 
of French goods at Southern ports. This was checked 
by the capture of New Orleans and other ports, and 
reopening them to trade under the flag of the Union. 

Then came the denunciation of the Federal Govern- 
ment for temporarily obstructing Charleston harbour 
by sinking vessels loaded with stone. This was answered 
by saying that France herself had done the same thing, 
under the Treaty of Utrecht, and had not only temporarily 



2f6 Our I'oi'-.i^n I<<;l;ilion': In lli* W;jr 

l/ui< [it'nntimuily <;l//bed a ljttrly>ur, Umt rernxtint* closed 
today. 

In iH(tJ, Uj*-- J'wj)[>ttior'ti n/Uln-.nn U) Ua-. (Jjuj/iliers wai 
ItrfiMffA, u.li(^ rAtiiiu'iint'A un mi'iumiUm that }j.« wut> about 
to tttkii tttei^tt for tictJve meatjures to hr«ak th« blockade, 
Thi^ tjw^t^tttiion (j/ivo<:at<-ii i»] ICuroi;^^- w^n-; jubilant over 
tlw expe/;(,e'/l annou/Mt'Mj^'./jt, and tjtock bp<i<;ulators of 
tJjii I^>ndon i'/x/:ljange and I'aris Bourse wera going U> 
make tlittir fortunes by its effects on the market. At t)i« 
latjt monjefjt, the ICm^^eror be/;ame </mvUicrA that the 
s(,<^.[) was a dangt^rous one, and the threaf/ejjing j^aragrai^h 
was stricken out. As the Am^erican Minister, Mr. i Jayton, 
wrote: "The JCmj/eror's a^ldress canje; but it was not 
wijat they cx[A'< t<'<l. 'I'hey <n,](\ that just before itti de- 
livery tlw 'fiwibh h.<d b' < I) \ ill h> <\ ilii ,' .'(D'l lo/ 1, li with the 
liritish ministry, the /.ondon J tmt'n, and «w,h< / j<o)ijont> 
nl (h<- I'jighsh pretiw rajj oil /ilong with it." 

Ill ii'><>^, the )Ci/i[<e/oi ienewe<i his proj)Os;i.l \<ii j'/int 
inl/erfereuM^ in th<' American contest, saying tluit li otjier 
i'owers re|'ufc>e(j, Jjj; wouM proeeed alone. JJut,, before 
he was ready to do t>«>, e/mie Ihe bill ol Vi' :l<t>burg and the 
vid/Ory of Oettyslnng, mid the |'/< )j« \i M mister at Wash- 
ington wrote Ijitj injperiuJ master that in view of these 
great suct^ssea of the Union .-irni;-; Ik- lind better wait titill 
longer. 

'I l)< projeclt^d ijitei ve/jl,ion was again and uyjiiu at- 
tenjpted in some dilb )< /ji |o/ni, during eji/'jj yueceeding 
year. At one lime, \,\n: plan was se/iout^ly <liscijsfierl ut 
I'aris of putting loj ward some «mn,ll power like Helj/ium 
to i)ick a quarrel with the United States, nnd i,li<-n t,he 
two great emj)ii<'H, su<Meiily etij)oiKsing thnl tiid«- ol tlie 
fonhoversy, would be u\,\i- j(<inl|y tr> <:riu>h th<^ Ameiican 
Government, iIuk^ di. iwn uito a. ti/jp. 

'^riie liitet^tand niohl d;mj/eroii» peilinj^H of all the French 
movements was the r-xjx'ditjoii to bel, II]) (in enijiire in 



Our Vornyw KrI.«lio/ri in lie W.u jny 

!At*,nir/i, nvt^rUunwiin/ ih*- /''|/i/l;|j/tt;» |/«/v«/»(»//i-,/»l, lltfyti, 
uii'i I: : \i \u l\tt^ li/>JM',/J ')UM',^, 'J \m Vmhr\t Minji*- 

U) ii\ I •>!' li^n Afiu'iia, M. Di'ntyn lU'l'littyn, in ntn^t-ttAii^ 
v/)i)/ Ml, l)uyi/tn, i,Ui' Aiiii'iUuh iMts/ny, o,iv«>«/*''1 \t\in »)/ut 
\'iiih<M \nt/i n>t U<'/Uj/I<<, '/f r/////|(iir; )//{/ Mt^/J'//, o/ titjfwhljtjh- 
///}/ u iii'iiniiut'iii, \/'tv/ii lj/i^/<^ "(n M(it: uUunt]on nf u, 
u^nvfJuiiUnn ti'/iiu'v/lnd tuinilmr," mVU"] Mi, i)uyh/u, 
**l UhM tftx^uAiioh (/; tetty, Ujttt In </i/JMJmju Mf%\i'4i IhuiitM 
iiil't^hl \t,uytr, ft pii^;p«t bft)/ln/1 \mr, *Nn,' r«pluv1 M 
hi'iuytt '1'^ I'Muy:,, 'no, U;^ tjU'lMi/ v/nuld l/'t f/>o I'/nj/ lo 
'//' // 1' . 

In i)ik oimi\/ni U/« MJnIttUf vvftt* ^H^^:\tmii ftn/l wj«^, 
i'/i/i, i/M,)>;<uM-ly )m^ ww^ (fvi'.iniUvi \ty lint EnnH'-i'ti, v/l/// 
iiu4 (V'.U'.nii'iiifA Ut Uy i\m tf,/,ifi.nuMiy vyJU< MmUii\\\u.h. 
U r««uIM ft* M, Ih'hiyu (U VWuyti UuA ^//«/1j/;M, "Hm 
uirini^ y/ujn i/fi \nu^ i/t wnrU," m\A i\m m\\in\Mim\M Sri^i' 
dnUt*, i'niuUy \i)^i II//1 only " hi/t hia )jf«, 

lUji, tiU t'nt-i'^n '^'/Wi'i nil 'fl nntnt.n4\y ^ntiii^ 

i\if, vfur, 'M/« \M\n.'\ifmrk',tm m\.m\)\U%, il///«i^i U/i*y 
<y>ul4 f<//t j/ivi". tiJ/l, ^i^ tinS. wJU/l/z/M U^^ir tjy>/^pftU/(/ , 
F'/V'-f> <Im' 0/m («<i'nj;/j^ ';)//i4/1 //^ l/UM/(,AJftM i;<M'.; Vi^x' c/n 
•//.). /< ;,' /' '1 ;,' ' ju/j UMtr«l/y ftffty '/f t>u/«!il/JM/t, bw*'-'!' »» 
f^JvJ iJumnurU ti*$iti woi4^ td «ympftU<y, il/ttly ^^j^/m ^ -) 
i^iM fr'mMnit ilmi imA l/^xrn - ' ' ' -»;< hm. I'ntfAifi, 

(\i'.n\> tjf i\iM only /< j/ ih))/ in Enioift-. w/'/U U</*t tiwU/ZArlMtA 
rt(jf^.rfU4 i\if, fct/ lij/i/N'. y/<M/ U/^t >'■■ ■ ■ /, nA4niiC 

i,UtiX'*'ow\i//Ar\MiA Ifiii^'A i,hion0. , (/,,,«>->-// 

yitura w^'i, May ^'tiA ^lunl i,\iu,i Um? '- . '/> 

Aimrkifi ffmy uHt^frnmrtf^ r*^,n^wfA niui ni^rttnicUmftM ti'/in 
lU'ia r,r\iiU/' 

Mr, iiii/A, Urn Ortmiy-Ctfrn^ruS td I'Mi/ZAfiMtA f*,i WMfi^ 
inz^/m, wm a, irtu^iw.ni '/y-A^//r f/> i\m firrivin^ r*%)inttu\M 
im (Mi/iUA liiW, My\ rteSm'^ttA i,)ii,ir v/miU u/h fu,r m ^tM wm 



2i8 Our Foreign Relations in the War 

Russia was a steadfast friend of the United States 
during the war. In the volumes of diplomatic correspond- 
ence, there are very few pages under the head of " Russia," 
and these contain only messages of amity and good will. 
Russia had no grounds of complaint for damages, or if 
she had she never presented them. The plan for an 
intercontinental telegraph, to connect the United States 
and Russia by way of Behring Strait, and the survey of 
the route made under the auspices of the two governments, 
helped to promote the mutual good feeling. 

It was through the legation at St. Petersburg that 
information was received of the design of France and 
England to enter upon a scheme of joint action adverse to 
the United States. Russia was invited to join in their 
plans for "mediation" and "intervention," but promptly 
refused unless the United States should ask her. 

When the threatened "intervention" seemed, never- 
theless, to be impending, two Russian fleets appeared 
in American waters, and passed summer and winter there. 
One came up the Potomac to Washington, and subse- 
quently visited New York. The other appeared at San 
Francisco. 

Official announcement of their purposes might be em- 
barrassing, and Prince Gortschakoff was a sagacious 
diplomatist. He simply sent over the fleets, and in- 
structed the Russian Minister to say that they came for 
"no unfriendly purpose." The Government and people 
of the United States intuitively understood that, while 
their help might never be needed, yet if needed it would 
be forthcoming. Courtesies and festivities were ex- 
changed on ship and shore, between the naval officers 
and the authorities at New York and Washington. The 
Secretary of State gave an official dinner to the higher 
officers of the fleet, and the Russian Minister responded 
by another. Congress was invited as a body to visit the 



A Moorish Episode 219 

fleet at the navy yard, and a great ball was held in the 
Russians' honour at the New York Academy of Music. 
The significance of these events was fully appreciated 
at London and Paris. 

February, 1862. 

A Moorish Episode. Quaint, mediaeval, and Sara- 
cenic, the city of Tangier rises out of the blue sea, toward 
the commanding heights of the African shore. The castle 
and fortifications, with their frowning walls, give it a 
formidable air, and the glare of its whitish buildings in 
the blazing sun give it an aspect of cleanliness, which 
is not borne out by closer inspection of its narrow, 
unsavoury streets. 

A motley population, of all complexions, throng these 
streets, shouting at each other in a babel of tongues, 
Prankish and Mahometan, Jewish, Italian, Spanish, and 
Portuguese. White turbans and black slaves, red fezzes 
and gleaming simitars, dogs, donkeys, and camels, add 
to the general picturesqueness, so that it has been aptly 
said by a traveller that in Tangier one is never certain 
whether he is living in the Old Testament or the Arabian 
Nights. 

To such a traveller, it seems odd to see the Stars and 
Stripes gaily fluttering over one of the antique structures 
with calm assertiveness. Tangier is one of the few places 
in the world where the United States Government owns 
the home of its diplomatic representative. The fact that 
his flag has waved there undisturbed for more years than 
any living man can remember lends to the American Con- 
sul-General a prestige and dignity not always accorded to 
consuls who lodge in shabby, shifting quarters, over shops. 

Trade and intercourse with America are not great, 
but "down along the coast of the High Barbaree" there 
is a traditional respect for the American flag, handed 



220 A Moorish Episode 

down from the days when the navy of the young Republic 
amazed Europe by sweeping the Barbary pirates out of 
the Mediterranean waters, where they had prowled and 
plundered for centuries. 

In the year 1862, the occupant of the Consulate was 
Judge De Long, of Ohio. He was not much versed in 
Oriental wiles or modern diplomacy, but he was a zealous 
patriot, an honest lawyer, and an upright official. His 
blunt, straightforward talk was sometimes displeasing to 
his European colleagues, but it impressed the Moslem 
authorities, whose ears found it a novelty after many 
years of listening to glib phrases uttered in every language, 
from modem Parisian to ancient Sanskrit. 

One February'- morning news was brought to the Con- 
sulate that two well-dressed Americans, with an air of 
authority, were sauntering through the streets of Tangier, 
indulging in offensive and insulting remarks about the 
American flag and its Consul, and expressing views in 
general that were highly derogatory to the honour of the 
United States. 

Further inquiry easily discovered who they were, for 
they made no secret of it. One was called Tunstall and 
said he had been acting as United States Consul at Cadiz, 
until the previous summer. The other was Myers, for- 
merly in our navy and now lieutenant of the Confederate 
cruiser Sumter, which was lying in the port of Gibraltar, 
where she had put in for coal. 

Greatly scandalized by such proceedings, the Judge 
remarked: "American citizens may plot treason and re- 
bellion at home, but they shall not do so where I am, if 
I have the power to prevent it." Thereupon, he promptly 
dispatched a messenger to Sidi Mohammed Bargash, the 
Minister of State, with whom he held intercourse and 
requested that a file of soldiers should be sent to aid him 
in dealing with some traitorous fellow-countrj^-men. 



A Moorish Episode 221 

Treason and rebellion are not uncommon offences in 
Morocco, where the constituted rulers regard them as 
cardinal sins, and the usual penalty for them is decapi- 
tation. 

When Sidi Mohammed Bargash inquired what the 
Consul- General wished to have done with his malefactors, 
he was reHeved to learn that the Judge did not ask to have 
their heads cut off, nor to have them thrown into the 
dungeons of the castle, but only to have them delivered 
under guard at the door of the American Consulate. 

The soldiers were sent. They overtook the offenders, 
who were leisurely proceeding toward the French steamer 
on which they were about to re-embark. The Moorish 
soldiers arrested them and marched them up to the 
American Consulate. 

Now some explanations from them were in order. 
They began to expostulate. Their arrest, they declared, 
was absurd, an egregious blunder. They were peaceable 
travellers in a foreign land. True, they were at war with 
the United States, but Morocco was neutral soil, and 
nobody had a right to stop them there. They pointed 
out that international law, and the rules of neutrality, 
entitled them to immunity from arrest. In fact, accord- 
ing to law, the Consul could not arrest them. 

The Judge's reply was succinct and to the point. He 
said he not only could arrest them, but that he had. 

They declared they would appeal for protection to 
the European Powers, all of whom would demand their 
release. 

The Judge intimated that they might appeal to all the 
governments in Christendom, if they chose; but that 
it would take considerable time. Meanwhile, they were 
under the jurisdiction of a Mahometan one, which was 
friendly to him and to the United States. 

Finding him deaf to persuasion and argument, they 



222 A Moorish Episode 

dispatched a communication to the French Consul, 
stating their case. They had come over for a pleasure 
trip across the Straits, on the French steamer Ville de 
Malaga, intending to re-embark on her in the evening. 
They had been arrested and locked up, under a guard of 
four Moorish soldiers, without any warrant or justifica- 
tion. They asked his interposition to end this absurd 
state of affairs. 

The reply of the French Consul was courteous but 
diplomatic. He regretted their detention. But they 
were not French subjects, and when they left the French 
steamer and landed on Moorish territory, he had no right 
to protect them, nor to interfere in any way whatever. 

A similar application to the British Minister, Mr. 
Drummond Hay, met with similar unsatisfactory results. 
Firstly, the Minister said, he had no power to interfere, and 
secondly, Her Majesty's Government had given positive 
instructions to her ministers and consuls to observe strict 
neutrality in this unhappy American contest. 

The prisoners were not disheartened. Like their 
captor, they were quick-witted, resolute Americans, so 
they cast about for other help. Surely, there must be 
plenty of sympathizers with the Southern cause here in 
Tangier. They had found them at Gibraltar, at Cadiz, 
in fact, everywhere that the Sumter had touched. It 
seemed ridiculous that they should be left to lie here in a 
Moorish prison. 

They had heard that Moorish guards sometimes were 
open to bribery. They mustered up a hundred dollars 
in gold coins and a gold watch, and with them opened 
negotiations. 

Unluckily the Judge got wind of it, and promptly 
stopped the bargain. Then he sent to Sidi Mohammed 
Bargash for more guards, and ordered the prisoners put 
in irons. Someone lent them a case knife, with which 



A Moorish Episode 223 

Myers cut the rivets. He then jumped out of the window. 
But he only landed in the consular courtyard, where he 
was immediately caught and brought back to confinement. 

But other instrumentalities were at work in their behalf. 
Now appeared upon the scene no less a personage than the 
Military Secretary of the Governor of Gibraltar. 

He was the bearer of a letter to the Moorish Minister of 
Foreign Affairs, from the commander of the Confederate 
States steamer Sumter. It demanded the immediate 
release of the prisoners, — implying that terrible things 
would occur if the demand were not complied with. It 
was a trifle arrogant in tone, considering that the Sumter 
was out of coal, and was under close watch by the United 
States warship Tuscarora, which was cruising off Algeciras. 
But it had weight with Sidi Mohammed Bargash. He 
immediately sat down to write a polite note to Judge De 
Long, saying: 

"We have received a letter from the captain of the 
steamer Sumter, from the Confederate States, in which 
they inform us that the two men you have seized are of the 
best of men, and they are guiltless, — except that they are 
from the separated Confederate States. We have no doubt 
that when you receive this letter, you will put them free." 

This was couched in the politest of Arabic. The answer 
to it was in vigorous American. 

The Judge informed his Excellency: first, that there 
was no government known or recognized as the " Confeder- 
ate States," either by the United States or the Empire of 
Morocco, and that the captain and crew of the Sumter, 
as well as the men in custody, were all citizens of the 
United States resisting its authority; furthermore, that 
the Sumter was a Federal vessel, seized by rebels, and 
engaged in capturing, plundering, biirning, and sinking 
peaceable American merchant vessels. He concluded by 
asking, "Shall seventy-six years of uninterrupted friend- 



224 A Moorish Episode 

ship between your government and the United States be 
brought to an end for the sake of pirates?" 

By this time the sympathizers with the Southern 
cause were actively stirring up the motley nationalities 
in Tangier to disorder. They perceived that instead of 
waiting for the slow action of the Moorish and European 
governments they might as well deliver the prisoners 
themselves, by means of inflammatory speeches, indig- 
nation meetings, and a mob. 

The movement was started in the market-place, where 
they had a table set out, with pen, ink, and paper, in the 
middle of the street, and began signing and pledging them- 
selves in solemn form to force the release of the prisoners 
at all hazards. The mob, when gathered, would march 
to the Consulate, groan, howl, curse and swear, break in 
windows and doors, and, in the height of the tumult, 
would free the men in spite of their guards. 

Word of the threatening state of affairs in the market- 
place was hastily brought to the Palace, where the Viceroy, 
Prince Muley el Abbas, was enjoying a quiet smoke. 

The Prince listened, and, calmly removing the nargileh 
from his lips, remarked, "Allah is great. But what the 
devil have these Christians to do with the American Con- 
sul's prisoners?" He signified that it was the province 
of the lieutenant-governor to take troops, and disperse 
these riotous Christians. 

And now comes another new and unexpected actor in 
the drama. Off the harbour appears the United States 
warship Ino, flying the American flag. She heads for 
the anchorage and prepares to exchange the customary 
salute of twenty-one guns with the Moorish forts. Her 
captain and officers come ashore in uniform and proceed 
to the Consulate and the Palace, to make the usual calls 
of ceremony. The Consul-General joins them. 

The Prince and his ministers receive them with courtesy. 



A Moorish Episode 225 

Their requests are presented and are acceded to as entirely- 
reasonable. They are, that the Ino shall be allowed to 
land thirty armed marines, who shall march the prisoners 
from the Consulate down to the ship. The Moorish 
troops will quell the mob and accompany the prisoners 
to the beach. 

All this is speedily done, within an hour or two. The 
mob resolves itself into a gaping crowd of three thousand 
spectators, who stand gazing at the departing warship, 
carrying away those troublesome Americans. 

Then comes to the Consulate a scroll fastened with red 
cord, of which the substance is this: 

^^ Praise to the One God! 

"To the Clever and Wise Gentleman, Consul-General 
for the American Nation. 

" We continue to make inquiries for your welfare. We 
are deeply penetrated with the expressions of gratitude 
made use of at your interview with us for the assistance 
we rendered you in removing the insults offered to you 
by the Christian subjects, who surrounded the consular 
residence, thus offering indignity to the American flag. 

"We request you to express to your government our 
sentiments of good will, and to assure them that the 
friendship between us not only exists and continues, 
but on our part has become confirmed and consolidated 
by time; and that we heartily wish them the victory 
(victorious as they always are) over those who have 
rebelled against them and peace. 
"El Abbas, 

" Son of the Prince of the Believers. 

" May he rest in Glory." 

Out of the maze of official documents and personal 
statements, the story is gathered as here presented. 

IS 



226 A Moorish Episode 

Finally it fell to me, as acting Secretary of State, to "end 
the diplomatic incident, " and close the correspondence, by 
a formal dispatch to the Consul- General, expressing our 
appreciation and reciprocation of Morocco's friendship, 
and adding: 

"Good relations between the two countries have ex- 
isted too long, to be in danger of disturbance from light 
causes ; and serious ones are not likely to spring up between 
governments whose interest and whose desire it is that 
they should cherish toward each other good will, and 
practise frankness and justice. 

"You will communicate these sentiments to the Prince; 
and at the same time assure him, that his wishes for our 
success over those who are waging an unholy war against 
the government they had sworn to support are honourable 
alike to his judgment and his feelings ; and that they have 
given much satisfaction to the President and people of 
the United States. 

" F. W. Seward, 

" Acting Secretary of State." 

After his release from Fort Warren, in Boston harbour, 
which occurred some months later, Tunstall came to 
see me at the State Department. He agreed that there 
was a spice of grim humour in the predicament which 
unexpectedly overtook him and his friend at Tangier. 
He said he should not have much minded being captured 
as a prisoner of war, but that he was not quite prepared 
to forgive "that Ohio Judge" for putting him in irons. 

January i, 1863. 

Signing the Emancipation Proclamation. New Year's 
Day is alwaj^s a busy one at the Executive Mansion. 
The Diplomatic Corps, in official uniform, are presented 



Signing the Emancipation Proclamation 227 

to the President by the Secretary of State. Civil, miUtary, 
and naval officers are then received in due succession. 
Meanwhile the porch, carriage ways, and sidewalk are 
gradually filling with a gathering throng, awaiting the 
hour of two o'clock, when the doors are thrown open to 
the general public. 

Thursday, January i, 1863, was marked by an event that 
will always be memorable in history. Slaves, in all the 
regions remaining in rebellion, were to be on that day 
declared entitled to freedom. The Emancipation Pro- 
clamation had been duly prepared at the State Depart- 
ment, and was ready for President Lincoln's signature. 

At noon, accompanying my father, I carried the broad 
parchment in a large portfolio under my arm. We, 
threading our way through the throng in the vicinity of 
the White House, went upstairs to the President's room, 
where Mr. Lincoln speedily joined us. The broad sheet 
was spread open before him on the Cabinet table. Mr. 
Lincoln dipped his pen in the ink, and then, holding it a 
moment above the sheet, seemed to hesitate. Looking 
around, he said: 

"I never in my life felt more certain that I was doing 
right, than I do in signing this paper. But I have been 
receiving calls and shaking hands since nine o'clock this 
morning, till my arm is stiff and numb. Now this signa- 
ture is one that will be closely examined, and if they 
find my hand trembled they will say * he had some com- 
punctions.' But anyway, it is going to be done." 

So saying, he slowly and carefully wrote his name 
at the bottom of the proclamation. The signature proved 
to be unusually clear, bold, and firm, even for him, and a 
laugh followed at his apprehension. My father, after 
appending his own name, and causing the great seal to 
be affixed, had the important document placed among the 
archives. Copies were at once given to the press. 



228 A Visit to the Army of the Potomac 

May, 1863. 
A Visit to the Army of the Potomac. A year ago this 
month we made our "Cruise between Two Armies" 
in a naval vessel. This year we are to make a visit to 
the Army of the Potomac, and to traverse part of 
the same region, besides visiting other points not then 
occupied. 

During the year, both our own army and that of the 
enemy have been increased and reinforced. Both have 
extended and strengthened their fortifications. General 
McClellan was then endeavouring to reach Richmond 
by way of the Peninsula. Now, General Hooker is seek- 
ing to reach it by way of Fredericksburg and the Rappa- 
hannock. 

Our present expedition is, in some respects, a diplomatic 
one. The Secretary of State goes down to visit the 
troops, and to confer with commanders. Some of the 
members of the Diplomatic Corps have been invited 
to accompany him, in order that they may better under- 
stand the situation, and report to their respective govern- 
ments concerning the condition of the army and the 
magnitude of its operations. 

Our party comprises eleven — Baron Gerolt, the Prussian 
Minister, Baron Grabow, the Secretary of Legation, Mr. 
Schleiden, the Minister from the Hanseatic Cities, Count 
Piper, the Swedish Minister, Judge Goodrich, Secretary 
of Legation at Brussels, Mr. and Mrs. Titian R. Peale, 
and ourselves. The baggage, consisting of carpet bags, 
shawls and overcoats, spy-glasses and maps, was packed 
with us into three carriages, and we proceeded to the 
Arsenal wharf over a mile of very rough and muddy 
road. 

At the Arsenal, the guard received us, and Colonel 
Ramsey, the commandant, was waiting to escort us to 
the boat. 



A Visit to the Army of the Potomac 229 

Sunday evening. 

Our boat is the Carrie Martin, a pretty little steamer 
that used formerly to run between New York and Shrews- 
bury, and is now used as a government dispatch boat, 
carrying General Halleck, General Hooker, or the Presi- 
dent, when business calls them, to or from Washington 
and the army. 

We have passed down the river, inspecting the fleets 
of steamers and schooners, with which the Potomac is 
filled nowadays. Alexandria and Fort Washington look 
now all peaceable and quiet, as well as Mount Vernon, 
where the bell tolls a passing salute according to the old 
river custom. 

Acquia Creek then came into view. Here was a busy 
scene — a fleet of transports at anchor — tugs and steamers 
whistling and puffing about — long rows of new unpainted 
wooden buildings, offices and storehouses on shore, with 
piles of boxes, bales, and barrels, containing ammunition, 
provisions, muskets, clothing, shot and shell, and all the 
supplies of a great army. 

Crowds of soldiers and labourers thronged the wharf, 
sick men going to the hospital, well men discharged or 
f urloughed or returning to duty, officers superintending the 
shipment of supplies; and all shades and sizes of "con- 
trabands" in all manner of cast-off clothes of everybody 
else, some at work, some basking in the sun. 

The Quartermaster, Captain Hall, had a train waiting 
to take us to Falmouth. The railroad is a military one, 
and has only freight cars and locomotives. Our train 
consisted of one of the latter, and one of the former with 
some wooden benches in it. Upon these we seated our- 
selves and were whirled rapidly out of Acquia, through 
cuttings and over embankments and bridges at the rate 
of forty-five miles an hour. 

The country presented a strange sight. Not a house. 



230 A Visit to the Army of the Potomac 

not a fence, not a field, not a bush, nor hardly a tree. 
Ever3rwhere the bare ground, everjrwhere on the hills, 
valleys, and plains, one vast encampment. Roads crossing 
and recrossing each other in every direction. Groups 
of tents, stockades, and earthworks. On every side, 
bodies of troops on the march or at drill. Squads of 
cavalry galloping to and fro, long lines of army wagons, 
droves of mules and horses, sentinels pacing before camp- 
fires, and soldiers scattered and rambling about every- 
where. This was the scene for fifteen miles, which we made 
in twenty minutes. Then came another collection of new 
wooden storehouses. This was Falmouth Station. 

We descended from the train, and got into a couple of 
large ambulances, which took us another half-mile through 
camps extending apparently without limit, up to General 
Hooker's headquarters, — a large tent, with a small one 
behind it. The General and his Chief of Staff, General 
Butterfield, received us very cordially, and made us im- 
mediately at home, by assigning us a couple of tents near 
his for our night's quarters. Mr. Peale had brought his 
camera, and while we were talking, photographed the scene. 

Then we made an excursion down to the river bank, 
to look across at Fredericksburg. It lay in the shadow, 
under the hill, — looking very quiet, peaceable, and near. 
It made a fine picture for Mr. Peale, — the narrow river 
in front, then the houses and steeples, with the background 
of loft)'- heights rising in the rear, covered with the rebel 
tents and earthworks. On the river bank just below us 
paced the Union sentries; and on the other side, just 
opposite, we could see with distinctness the rebel sentries, 
also pacing their rounds. The two were near enough to 
call to each other across the stream. There is a sort of 
tacit understanding that the pickets shall not fire at each 
other, so they did not molest us, although the carriages 
and the squadron of lancers which accompanied the 



A Visit to the Army of the Potomac 231 

General as an escort must have attracted attention, for 
we saw groups of curious observers, like ourselves, gather 
on the wharves of Fredericksburg to look at us, and heard 
them calling, one to another, though we could not dis- 
tinguish the words. 

Back to the camp again, through what is left of Fal- 
mouth, — ^two houses only, the Lacy house and the Phillips 
house. There were two or three more, which have been 
destroyed. We supped with the General in his tent, 
sat and talked till the drum beat for "taps," and then 
betook ourselves to our tents. 

The three ladies had one; the seven gentlemen of the 
party had the other. The beds were plank floor, the 
pillows carpet-bags, the bedclothes army blankets. The 
night was clear and warm, and we slept soundly. 

Monday. 

At five o'clock this morning, the drums and bugles wake 
us with the reveille. Toilets are soon made in camp. 
Then we strolled through the encampment and back to 
breakfast, some with the General, and others with officers 
of his staff. 

At ten o'clock, the General had ordered a review of 
General Sickles's corps, and columns of infantry, cavalry, 
and artillery were already assembling. We rode on the 
field at that hour, and found a magnificent spectacle. 
The long lines of troops, with flags waving and arms 
glistening in the sun, stretched more than a mile. A 
cavalcade of officers accompanied the General, and, as 
they galloped down the line, were received with drums 
beating, colours saluting, and thousands of troops cheering. 
It was an inspiring sight. 

After the review of the troops, there came a review of 
a wilderness of army wagons and ambulances, covering 
the plain in long rows, as far as the eye could reach. 



232 A Visit to the Army of the Potomac 

On our way back we aoked the General how much 
space the Army of the Potomac occupied in its encamp- 
ments. He said that the distance around it was one 
hundred miles, the distance through it from one side 
to the other at least thirty. Beside the army corps which 
we had seen pass in review, there were three others of 
equal magnitude that today were marching toward the 
Rappahannock to make the crossing. 

After the review, the general officers of the corps were 
assembled at Headquarters for presentation and con- 
ference. And then we took our leave. 

The train landed us again at Acquia Creek. We 
re-embarked on the Carrie Martin^ and proceeded down 
the river. The night was bright moonlight, and we 
spent a good deal of it on deck. 

Tuesday. 

This morning we found ourselves in the York River, 
and at ten o'clock reached Yorktown. Here General 
Keyes and General Rufus King came on board to welcome 
us, and took us on shore with them. 

After a salute of fifteen guns, they took us round the 
fortifications and earthworks — the labours of two great 
armies. They are vast in extent and look impregnable. 
Then we went to see the great gun fired. The roar was 
deafening, and we saw the shell thrown from it burst 
three miles away toward the Chesapeake. 

Then we went through the town, which consists of but 
few houses, and no inhabitants except troops and "contra- 
bands." The houses are old and quaint. The bricks 
for some of them were brought from England. Lord 
Cornwallis's headquarters. General Washington's head- 
quarters, and the Governor's house were pointed out. 
One was occupied by General Keyes and one by General 
King. Mrs. Keyes had two or three ladies staying with 



A Visit to the Army of the Potomac 233 

her — officers' wives and sisters. The General gave us 
lunch. 

Then we went down to the river, and across to Glouces- 
ter Point, — rode around, and saw the earthworks and a 
review of the garrison. 

Then back again, and found at the wharf a gunboat 
of the York River squadron. Captain Gilliss, her com- 
mander, took us on board, gave us a salute of fifteen 
guns, and then a cruise up the river five or six miles, 
beyond the lines of the army. Here he experimented 
with his one hundred pounder, throwing shot and shell at 
distant points on the shore. Returning we fell in with a 
fleet of oyster boats, and got two or three barrels of the 
famous York River oysters, one of which we agreed to 
take to the President. 

We took leave of Yorktown at five o'clock, and steamed 
on down the bay. Dinner was over, and it was quite late 
in the evening when we reached Fortress Monroe. Here 
General Dix and some of his staff came on board, among 
them a Prussian officer who had been a protege of Baron 
Gerolt. We slept on board, under the guns of the fort. 

Wednesday. 

This morning General Dix took the Secretary of State 
with him on an excursion to visit the beleaguered post 
of Suffolk. The rest of us went on shore with Colonel 
Ludlow and Dr. Gilbert, the Medical Director, to visit 
the hospitals and the ruins of the village of Hampton. 
The hospitals are very like those of Washington. 

Hampton was, before the war, a pretty village, but it 
was burnt by the rebel General Magruder in 1861. It 
presents an odd appearance now. The "contrabands," 
who number several thousands, have encamped upon 
its site. They have cleared away the rubbish, and then, 
going out into the adjacent swamps, have cut down cypress 



234 A Visit to the Army of the Potomac 

trees, which, after their fashion, they have split into 
boards and shingles. With these they have built shanties 
to live in. Of course, when the old houses were burned, 
the chimneys were left standing. Each of the shanties is 
ingeniously built around one of these chimneys, and the 
appearance of a town of such diminutive houses, with 
such majestic chimneys towering over them, is funny 
enough. 

The "contrabands" were all neatly dressed, cheerful, 
and comfortable. They are employed by the Govern- 
ment, and receive pay and rations. The most striking 
ruin is that of the old English church, built before the 
Revolution, and surrounded by the graves of British 
officers. 

Returning on board, we went over to Norfolk, which 
we found in much the same condition as last year, only 
much neater, thanks to military supervision, and with 
a little more business stirring. There is still a strong 
secession feeling there, which was evinced by sour looks 
and suppressed remarks, as we walked through the streets. 
We called on General Viele, the Military Governor, but 
did not find him at home. 

Then we went over the ruins of the Gosport Navy Yard, 
on the opposite side of the Elizabeth River, and then 
back to Fortress Monroe. A thunder-storm came up in 
the evening, but was soon over; and we slept quietly 
again under the guns of the fort. 

Thursday. 

This morning we went ashore, and paid a visit to 
the fortress. It is a strong and imposing fortification, 
mounting hundreds of guns, and embracing seventy 
acres within its massive stone walls. It is the largest 
single work in this country. 

Inside, the trees, the green grass, gravel walks, and neat 



A Visit to the Army of the Potomac 235 

houses gave it the appearance of a summer resort rather 
than a fort. We were received with the salute of the 
usual fifteen guns, then visited General Dix's headquar- 
ters ; then returned to the Carrie Martin, and went over 
to the Rip Raps. 

This is a stone fortification constructed on a small island, 
and covering the whole of it. The walls are several feet 
thick, and the whole affair, island, fort, and all, looks as if 
it was carved in stone. There is no room for a blade of 
grass to grow. It is unfinished, and the workmen are 
still engaged on it. The ship channel runs between 
it and Fortress Monroe; so that whatever passes will be 
exposed to the fire of both. 

Then we next steamed five or six miles up the James 
River, to visit Admiral Lee's fleet, lying above Newport 
News Point. The Admiral received us on board his 
flagship, the Minnesota, with the usual salute. After 
passing through her decks and looking through her heavy 
armament, we went on board the Lehigh, one of the new 
"monitors" in the squadron, and viewed her turret, her 
little pilot-house, her monster gun, her compact cabins 
under water, and so on. The ingenuity and strength these 
vessels display seem even more striking when seen so 
closely. The Sangamon, the Galena, and the Ossipee 
are also in the squadron. We did not go on board of them, 
but exchanged salutes by dipping ensigns and waving 
hats as we passed them. 

Then we ran into Norfolk to take in a supply of coal, 
thence back to the fort; and so ended another day. 



Friday. 

At sunrise this morning, we started on our way home. 
It was a clear cloudless day: the bay as calm as a lake, 
and the air like summer. We devoted the entire day to 



236 An Excursion with the Diplomatic Corps 

the cruise up the Chesapeake and the Potomac, through 
hundreds of vessels. 

Once we passed through a fleet of forty schooners, all 
moving in the same direction, and near together, the 
white sails glistening in the moonlight; and shortly after, 
through another fleet of fifty more, riding, black and 
silent, at anchor. The clock struck ten as we debarked 
once more at the Arsenal wharf. 

An Excursion with the Diplomatic Corps. The members 
of the Diplomatic Corps were frequently asked by their 
governments as to whether the war, so long protracted, 
was not beginning to exhaust the energies of the com- 
batants. 

The Secretary of State had often told them that they 
could learn little of the true state of the country by spend- 
ing their summer vacations at Newport, Cape May, 
Saratoga, and other places of fashionable resort, and had 
often advised them to leave the seaboard and the great 
cities, and visit the rural regions of the interior. He 
saw how difficult it was for them to realize that the country 
was not becoming exhausted, or that the causes which 
led to the draft riots in New York might not be at work 
in every town. 

When he invited them to accompany him on a visit 
to his home, in Central New York, "the heart of the 
North," several of them signified that they would go 
with willingness and pleasure. 

Some of the diplomatic gentlemen started with him in a 
special car from Washington, others joined the party at 
New York. Its number varied at different stages of the 
journey, but Lord Lyons, the British Minister, M. Mercier, 
the French Minister, Senor Tassara, the Spanish Minister, 
Commander Bertinatti, the Italian Envoy, Mr. Schleiden, 
the Minister from the Hanseatic Cities, Mr. Stoeckl, 



An Excursion with the Diplomatic Corps 237 

the diplomatic representative of Russia, Count Piper, 
the Swedish Minister, and Mr. MoUna, the Central Ameri- 
can representative, continued through nearly the whole 
journey. 

They visited New York and its vicinity, they went up 
the Hudson, then through the Valley of the Mohawk, 
then over the hills into Otsego County. They saw Albany, 
Schenectady, and Little Falls, visited Sharon Springs and 
Trenton Falls; they spent a night at Cooperstown and 
sailed on Otsego Lake. They went to Utica, Rome, and 
Syracuse. They stopped at Auburn, visited Seneca Falls 
and Geneva, traversed Cayuga and Seneca Lakes, saw 
the mills and factories of Rochester, and the harbour of 
Buffalo swarming with lake craft, and having its elevators 
in full operation. 

Hospitalities were showered upon them, more than 
they could accept. Serenades greeted them in the 
evening, with kindly invitations for the morrow. But 
every day's ride was a volume of instruction. Hun- 
dreds of factories with whirring wheels, thousands of 
acres of golden harvest fields, miles of railway trains 
laden with freight, busy fleets on rivers, lakes, and 
canals, all showed a period of unexampled commercial 
activity and prosperity. 

Then the flag flying everywhere, the drum heard 
everywhere, the recruiting offices open and busy; the 
churches, the hospitals, the commissions, and the benevo- 
lent associations, all labouring for the soldiers' care and 
comfort; all attested the resources of an Empire, and the 
self-reliant patriotism of a great Republic. 

One of the ministers, writing to his government, said, 
"The resources of the Northern States, instead of being 
exhausted, seem practically inexhaustible." 

A photograph of the party on the rocks at Trenton 
Falls hangs in my library, and another at Auburn. 



238 Changing the Commanding General 

Changing the Commanding General. Military men all 
know that success or defeat in battle is a part of "the 
fortune of war." The best of generals may sometimes 
encounter a reverse, and sometimes a defeated commander 
may, by experience and opportunity, retrieve his ill for- 
tune by subsequent victory. 

But, in our Civil War, events were influenced largely 
by Congress, the press, and public opinion. A lost battle 
was immediately followed by a clamour for a change 
of commanders. As Postmaster-General Blair once re- 
marked in Cabinet meeting, "Success in battle may not 
be the best of tests of a general's capacity, but it is the 
one the public knows of and has the power to apply. So 
it is the one usually adopted." 

After Fredericksburg, Burnside was the first to ask to 
be relieved of his command of the Army of the Potomac, 
and after Chancellorsville Hooker followed his example. 

There were several anxious consultations in Cabinet, as 
to who the next commander should be. It was believed 
that one of the corps commanders would be the best 
and most expedient appointment. But which one? 
All had now proved themselves tried, capable, and experi- 
enced soldiers, and all, so far as public opinion in and out 
of the army indicated, seemed to be regarded as hav- 
ing the necessary qualifications for commander-in-chief. 
Burnside, Hooker, Hancock, Howard, Reynolds, Meade, 
Sickles, Couch, Heintzelman, all had warm friends and 
admirers. Among the members of the Cabinet there were 
differing views, perhaps each somewhat influenced by 
personal friendship. 

"But what do you say, Mr. Secretary of War?" said 
one of his colleagues. "You best know them all, and 
your judgment should be the controlling one." 

Mr. Stanton paused before replying; "Well, I think on 
the whole I should prefer Meade." 



Changing the Commanding General 239 

*' Meade ? " was the reply. " Have we seen or heard much 
of him here in Washington? Who are his sponsors? 
Seems to me we know less of him than of any of the 
others." 

Stanton looked sharply at the speaker through his 
spectacles, and then, with a laugh, said, "Perhaps that is 
the reason I like him. No, he has no backers, and nobody 
is urging him for the place. He does not come to Wash- 
ington to ask for transfers or assignments or special 
privileges. He has his own record. He sticks to his 
work, does it, and does it well." 

"Don't you suppose he has aspirations like the rest?" 

"I rather think," said Stanton, "he expects to see 
Reynolds chosen, and would prefer him first, and any one 
else afterwards." 

Ultimately, the President and all the members present 
agreed that Stanton's judgment should be accepted, and 
that Meade should be at once notified. 

There was reason for haste, for battles were imminent. 
Lee's army was marching northward with evident purpose 
of invading Maryland or Pennsylvania. The Army of the 
Potomac was marching in a parallel direction with it, 
but on an "interior Hne, " thereby protecting Washington 
and Baltimore, and keeping in readiness to repel the 
threatened invasion, wherever and in whatever form it 
should be made. 

General Hardie of the War Department was dispatched 
to inform Meade. The Secretary of War supplied him 
with orders and instructions, and ordered a special engine 
and car to take him as far as possible. Then he was to 
find such conveyance as he could for the rest of the way. 
Railroads and all other roads are more or less demoralized 
and broken in war time. 

Hardie had various delays, which prevented him from 
reaching Frederick till long after dark. He had donned 



240 Changing the Commanding General 

civilian's dress, to avoid observation, but this very fact 
added to his trouble in getting through parties of obstrep- 
erous soldiery. When at last he found a horse and 
buggy to drive to Meade's headquarters, which were some 
miles outside of Frederick, it was after midnight. The 
guards had been set for the night, and they were not 
ready to admit a suspicious stranger, even when he claimed 
to be an official with a message to the General. However, 
at last he was ushered into General Meade's tent, and 
found the General half dressed, lying on his camp bed 
asleep. 

"Is that you, Hardie?" 

"Yes, General, just come from Washington." 

"Something important up?" 

"Yes, General, bad news for you. Better get up and 
hear it." 

General Meade arose and commenced putting on the 
rest of his fatigue uniform. 

"Bad news, you say? What is it?" 

"You are going to lose the command of your army 
corps, General." 

The General was silent a few moments, as he was 
putting on his coat. Then, turning, around, he said: 

"Do you know, Hardie, I am not ver}" much surprised. 
When I saw so many heads around me coming off, I 
rather wondered whether mine might not go next. Who 
do they put in my place?" 

"Don't know yet. Probably j'^our ranking division 
commander." 

"And what do they do with me?" 

"You — 3^ou are to take command of the Army of the 
Potomac!" 

' ' What ? ' ' exclaimed the astounded General. ' * Are j^ou 
joking? Are you in earnest?" 

When the General was convinced that the news was 



Changing the Commanding General 241 

true, he was by no means elated. He had no desire for the 
heavy responsibiHty thus devolving upon him. He said 
he was too ignorant of the positions and dispositions of 
the different army corps. He had thought that if Hooker 
should be relieved, Reynolds would take his place. Hardie 
was able to assure him that Secretary Stanton had fore- 
seen his reluctance, and therefore his orders had been 
so explicit and almost peremptory. The change was to be 
made and made at once, without postponement or delay. 

Meade said half-seriously, half -jokingly, "Well, I've 
been tried and condemned without a hearing, so I suppose 
I must submit." 

He insisted, however, that he must reserve his accept- 
ance till he had had a conference with the other corps 
commanders. It was essential to success in the campaign 
that there should be harmony and co-operation between 
them all. Discord would be fatal. His own desire was 
not to assume dictatorial powers, but to have full and 
frequent consultation with the others, over the army's 
movements. 

The conferences were held. The other generals, 
according to Hardie' s report, were less surprised than 
Meade had been. While some of them evidently were of 
opinion that the appointment might as well have come to 
them as to him, yet, on the whole, they were better 
satisfied with his selection than they might have been with 
some other. Of course, they all agreed to give him their 
best coimsel and hearty co-operation in the management 
of the campaign, — a pledge that was faithfully carried 
out, and which resulted in the master stroke of the cam- 
paign that has made the name of Gettysburg immortal. 

The story of Hardie's night ride and interview is the 
one that was told in Washington official circles. Very 
probably, it is incorrect in several details, but its general 
tenor is now accepted as history. 
16 



242 Altered Aspect of the War 

1863 and 1864. 

Altered Aspect of the War. The great victories at 
Gettysburg and Vicksburg and Port Hudson mark the 
beginning of a new phase of the war. PubHc sentiment 
in regard to it is changed and confident. The Mississippi 
is now opened to trade throughout its whole length. 
There is no longer any probability of an attempted 
invasion of the free States. The Confederacy is now 
confined within definite limits, which will contract and 
not expand. So there is a reasonable hope that the war 
will be ended and the Union restored within the space 
of a year or two. On the other hand, the public has now 
no illusions in regard to a speedy termination of hostilities. 
The Confederacy is still a power, composed of men of our 
own race, who are as tenacious of their opinions, as we are 
of ours. So we have settled down to consider the war as a 
lasting one. 

We have become inured to war and its experiences. 
We regard its chances and casualties as deplorable, but 
inevitable. We have grown accustomed to the long 
list of the killed and wounded in the battles. Not that 
this implies any callousness to this great amount of human 
suffering. Every conceivable expedient is eagerly seized 
upon to relieve the dangers and hardships of the soldiers 
and sailors. Hospitals are multiplied, nurses are eager 
to volunteer. Commissions are organized to furnish 
the soldiers and sailors not only with comforts but with 
luxuries. Fairs and festivals are held in all the cities, for 
the benefit of all who are fighting for the Flag. Everyone 
sends his gift or contribution. Private families are 
busily engaged in the manufacture of garments. Knitting 
of socks is going on in every loyal household throughout 
the North. 

And all this laudable work is attended with prosperity. 
Business is thriving. Commerce is showing unexampled 



Washington during Early's Raid 243 

activity. Every trade and occupation is finding employ- 
ment. The Government is spending a million of dollars 
a day and "greenbacks" are plentiful. 

The military telegraph has now been extended to every 
army in the field. Its wires centre in the War Depart- 
ment, now the focus of interest. Here sits the master 
spirit of the contest, Edwin M. Stanton. Day by day, 
and hour by hour, he is on the watch for news from the 
front, and for opportunities to send forward reinforce- 
ments, arms, and supplies wherever they are needed. 
Stern and inflexible in discharge of his duty, he rarely 
leaves the Department. Impatient of visitors who come 
to seek personal ends, he is always ready to respond to 
the calls of "the service" or the country. 

His Cabinet colleagues are his frequent callers, and the 
President spends hours in listening to the intelligence or 
demands ticked off from the wires. Here, they learn 
how Gilmore is shelling the fortifications of Charleston 
with long range artillery five miles away, how Burnside 
is capturing Knoxville, how Rosecrans is before Chat- 
tanooga, how Franklin is advancing towards Sabine 
Pass, how Banks has encountered a check in his march 
through Louisiana, but has retrieved it, and is marching 
on Shreveport, how varying conflicts are resulting in Flor- 
ida, Mississippi, and Alabama, and how Admiral Farragut 
is preparing for active operations in the Gulf of Mexico. 

1864. 

Washington during Early's Raid. It was in July, 
1864, that a Confederate movement in the Shenandoah 
Valley was developed. A column reported as thirty 
or forty thousand strong, under Breckenridge, passed the 
Potomac fords above Harpers Ferry, crossed the South 
Mountain, and entered Frederick in Maryland on Saturday 
the 9th. 



244 Washington during Early s Raid 

It was evident that the Confederates, hard pressed 
by General Grant's campaign in "the Wilderness," 
had taken the bold step of making an attack on Washing- 
ton from the rear, where the fortifications were weakest. 

Washington, in its fancied security, had sent forward 
nearly all its available troops to aid General Grant. If 
the attacking column could reach there before reinforce- 
ments could be sent back by General Grant, it might 
result in a surprise, and even a capture of the capital. 
General Early was reported to be in command of the 
movement. 

Major-General Wallace with about seven thousand 
men hastily drawn from Baltimore met the whole or a 
considerable portion of the enemy's force at the bridge 
at Monocacy, which opened a way equally to Washington 
or Baltimore. A deadly conflict was maintained from 
nine in the morning till five in the afternoon. The 
Union forces, overpowered by double their number, 
gave way and retreated to EUicott's Mills. 

My younger brother William H. was now in command 
of the Ninth New York Artillery. His regiment was a 
part of the force sent out to check the Confederate invasion. 

Early, the Confederate commander, had moved with 
rapidity and secrecy. General Wallace, the Union com- 
mander, found himself confronted with this overwhelming 
force. He could not drive the enemy back, but every 
hour he could delay their advance was important, since 
it gave time to put Washington into a condition for 
defence. 

My brother's regiment fought bravely nearly all day, 
but, overpowered at last, was forced to retreat, while its 
Colonel, wounded, narrowly escaped capture. His horse 
was shot under him and fell upon him. Lieutenant- 
Colonel Taft, who stood near by, at the same moment 
lost his leg by the explosion of a shell. When the final 



Washington during Early's Raid 245 

order was given to retire, Colonel Seward had little more 
than a colour guard left. Crippled and surrounded by the 
enemy, he escaped with great difficulty. 

With the help of one of his men, he reached a piece of 
woods. Mounting a stray mule, and using his pocket 
handkerchief for a bridle, he succeeded after a painful 
ride of many miles, during the night, in rejoining the 
forces which had then made a stand at Ellicott's Mills. 

It was now evident that the rebel movement was no 
mere raid, but a skilfully arranged strategic advance, 
to suddenly attack the Federal city on its weakest side. 

When the news spread about in Washington that a 
rebel army was within a few miles of the city, and that 
there was no longer any Federal force to oppose its advance, 
there was general alarm. Farmers living in the path of 
the coming enemy fled to the city for refuge. By every 
northern road their wagons were coming in, loaded with 
their household goods, accompanied by cattle hastily 
gathered and driven before them. 

Soon clouds of smoke in the northern sky showed that 
the abandoned dwellings and bams had been fired by 
the rebel scouting or marauding parties. 

Presently came intelligence that "Silver Spring," 
Francis P. Blair's beautiful country seat, had been made 
the headquarters of the rebel Generals Early and Brecken- 
ridge. Then that the house of his son Montgomery 
Blair, the Postmaster-General, had been fired and burnt 
to the ground. 

Meanwhile the military authorities were making every 
possible preparation for defence. The forts were manned 
by invalid soldiers and militia volunteers. Rifle pits 
between different fortifications were hastily made. The 
slender force at the disposal of the Government was 
distributed to the best advantage. 

Railway and telegraphic communication with the 



246 Washington during Early's Raid 

north was again cut off, and it seemed as if the experiences 
of 1 86 1 were to be repeated. But this time the popular 
feeHng was very different. There was no gloom nor 
consternation. Three years of war had inured even the 
noncombatants to mihtary vicissitudes. The citizens 
could even appreciate the grim humour of their predica- 
ment, in being thus suddenly attacked from the north, 
after having sent their available troops to the south. 
Succour was known to be coming from the Army of the 
Potomac in war steamers and transports. But would 
it arrive before the rebels were in the streets? It was not 
believed that the rebel troops could long hold the city, 
if they should take it. But they might inflict irreparable 
damage by burning public buildings, destroying records 
and military stores, capturing valuable prisoners, and 
seriously damaging the prestige of the national cause 
by even a day's occupation of the capital. 

One of the family letters, written at the time, graphically 
describes the events in Washington : 

" During Saturday evening, we had been hearing succes- 
sive reports of the battle, the disaster, and the retreat of 
General Wallace from Monocacy. The Secretary had 
just returned from the War Department at midnight, 
when Mr. Stanton himself came over and called him up, 
to tell him of the dispatch saying that William was 
wounded and a prisoner. 

"None of us slept much the rest of the night, and it 
was arranged that Augustus should go over in the first 
train to Baltimore to make inquiries. 

"All the morning the city was filled with panic rumours 
of the advances of the rebels in every direction, and 
troops were organized and posted to meet the anticipated 
attack. The teamsters and other employees of the 
Quartermaster's Department were armed, equipped, and 
mustered into regiments, volunteers were accepted, horses 



Washington during Early's Raid 247 

impressed, and the streets were full of bustle with the 
marching of different bodies of troops. 

"Meanwhile visitors were constantly coming in to 
make inquiry, or to bring reports said to have come from 
the field. At three o'clock a telegram from Augustus 
assured us that though wounded William was not a 
prisoner. By that time the citizens began to get reassured, 
and matters to look more cheerful, as the enemy had not 
pursued Wallace, had not attacked the railroad, and 
had not presented themselves anywhere in force. 

"On coming home we learned that a battalion of the 
Ninth Artillery, just arrived from Petersburg, had marched 
up the avenue to the fortifications. We followed them 
in the carriage, and on the Tennallytown road began to 
overtake the stragglers in the rear of the column. We 
took in two of them, and presently overtook the main 
body, who had halted to rest before taking their positions 
in the forts. They were dusty and tired, but brown and 
hearty — all glad to see us, and to get back to their old 
camping ground. 

"Their first inquiry was about their Colonel, of whose 
reported capture they had heard. They lavished praises 
on him for his bravery and his conduct with them before 
Petersburg, and were delighted to find that it was not 
true that he had been taken. 

"Major Snyder was in command of the battaHon. 
We found him and all our other acquaintances, and indeed 
found none who were not. We stayed half an hour while 
they made their coffee, and fought their battles over 
again, and left them in excellent spirits. 

"On reaching home at eight o'clock, we found General 
Wallace's dispatch about William. We think he will be 
here today or tomorrow. The whole regiment has now 
been ordered here to garrison the forts, as they are 
trained artillerists. Two battalions went to Baltimore, 



248 Washington during Early's Raid 

and so were in the battle, but they will now come 
here. 

"With the preparations now made, and the strength 
we are hourly gaining, the military authorities are confi- 
dent not only of resisting, but perhaps of overpowering the 
rebel force and capturing it. The country round is full 
of the raiding and scouting parties of their cavalry." 

Washington was well fortified. A triple girdle of earth- 
works now surrounded it. The open space between the 
fortifications and the region of streets, shops, and dwellings 
was thickly dotted with hospitals, mostly substantial 
wooden or canvas structures, with all modern appliances 
for ventilation and comfort. An army of maimed or 
convalescent soldiers on a sunny day could be seen resting 
or lounging on the turf around their doors. 

In the afternoon of the day when the enemy's advance 
guard was expected, my father and I drove out with 
President Lincoln to Fort Stevens, near the junction of 
the roads running from Seventh and Fourteenth Streets. 
As this was an exposed point, it would probably be the 
first attacked. 

A barricade had been thrown across the turnpike. 
General McCook was in command. A crowd of officers 
gathered round the carriage, to welcome and salute the 
President. He alighted, went up into the fort, and 
was standing on the parapet looking over the long stretch 
of comparatively level country, when a soldier touched 
his arm and begged him to descend, "for the bullets of 
the rebel sharpshooters may begin to come in any minute 
from the woods yonder." 

The caution was timely, for in a few moments the 
prediction was verified, and a bullet or two whistling over 
the sentry's head showed that the riflemen "were getting 
the range." 

A portion of the Sixth Corps and two divisions of the 



The Year's Record 249 

Nineteenth, which General Grant had sent up for the 
rehef of Washington, were now arriving and debarking 
at the wharves. Detachments were hastily formed and 
marched up to the aid of the threatened forts. One 
arrived at Fort Stevens while the President was there. 

Thrown out as skirmishers, the men soon came in sight 
of the rebel scouts, who, recognizing the well-known cross, 
which was the badge of the Sixth Corps, informed their 
commanders that the Federal reinforcements had arrived. 

On Monday and Tuesday, the space between the 
fortijfications and the attacking force was a scene of un- 
interrupted skirmishes between the cavalry and sharp- 
shooters of the respective parties. 

A force of two thousand men sent out from Fort Stevens 
on Tuesday evening assaulted the enemy with spirit and 
decision. In this engagement each party lost about three 
hundred killed and wounded. 

That night the enemy's sharpshooters were replaced 
by cavalry pickets, and on Wednesday morning their 
cavalry disappeared. At the same time the rebels with- 
drew from the vicinity of Baltimore. A column of 
considerable strength was dispatched on the 13th to 
pursue the enemy across the Potomac. 

December, 1864. 

The Year's Record. We are at the end of another 
year of the war. This is New Year's Eve. A crowd 
of holiday merrymakers has just gone by, singing 
the plaintive strains of the latest war song, — "When this 
cruel war is over." When will it be over? Will it last 
another year, or more? Looking back over the events 
of the year just closed, they seem of great, even of amazing 
importance : 

The appointment of Lieutenant-General Grant to the 
chief command of the armies ; his coming to Washington 



250 The Year's Record 

and reorganizing the Army of the Potomac; his order for a 
general advance, in April, of all the armies; his taking 
the field and driving Lee's troops from their intrench- 
ments and pursuing them into the "Wilderness"; the 
long and bloody campaign in the "Wilderness"; the 
sanguinary battles of Spottsylvania and Cold Harbour; 
the junction with the forces of General Butler at Bermuda 
Hundred; and the preparations for a long siege of Peters- 
burg and of Richmond, at which points the insurgent 
forces are now concentrated. Then the advance of 
General Sherman, pursuing Johnston's army to the 
Chattahoochee; the flanking of the enemy on Kenesaw 
Mountain; the battle near Atlanta where McPherson 
lost his life; the fall of Atlanta; and the historic 
march of Sherman through Georgia, and the capture of 
Savannah. 

Then the exploits of the navy: the sinking of the 
Alabama by the Kearsarge, under Captain Winslow; the 
great naval engagement and victory by Farragut in 
Mobile Bay. Then the cavalry successes of Sheridan, 
Averili, and Kilpatrick, — Sheridan's famous ride, and his 
victory at Cedar Creek. Then the failure of Early's 
Raid, and the clearing of the Shenandoah Valley, — all 
point to an early termination of the war. 

Not less significant is the result of the Presidential 
campaign, — the nomination and re-election of Abraham 
Lincoln, showing that the country stands behind him, 
determined to prosecute the war to the end. 

My father and I, in walking to the State Department, 
every morning find that the headquarters of General Augur, 
the District commander, has a crowd of forty or fifty 
persons in front of it. On inquiry, we learn that some 
of these are prisoners, but the majority are deserters 
from the Confederate ranks, who have come in, given up 
their arms, taken the oath of allegiance, and are to be 



The End of the War 251 

forwarded by the Government during the day to Philadel- 
phia, where they will find peaceful employment. 

My father remarks, "That means a company a day, — 
a regiment a week, — a brigade a fortnight. How long can 
any army stand such a drain upon its resources, when 
there are no new recruits or conscripts to replenish 
it?" 

April, 1865. 

The End of the War. When my father was disabled 
by his serious carriage accident, his official functions were 
devolved upon me. As Acting Secretary, I wrote the fol- 
lowing, as the closing " Circular on the military situation " : 

"The past week has been characterized by a rapid and 
uninterrupted series of military successes, more moment- 
ous in their results than any that have preceded them 
during the war. Richmond and Petersburg, with all 
their communications and vast quantities of supplies 
and material of war, have been captured by our armies. 
The insurrection has no longer a seat of its pretended 
Government. Its so-called officials are fugitives. Its 
chief army, after being reduced by repeated defeats and 
demoralization to less than one third of its former numbers, 
has been retreating, closely pursued and hemmed in by 
the victorious forces of the Union, and encountering 
fresh losses at every step of its flight, until the triumph of 
the national armies finally culminated in the surrender 
of General Lee and the whole insurgent Army of Northern 
Virginia to Lieutenant-General Grant yesterday afternoon, 
at half-past four o'clock. 

"Henceforth it is evident that the war, If protracted, 
can never resume its former character. Organized opera- 
tions of campaign or siege, carried on by disciplined and 
effective armies, are no longer possible for the insurgents. 
Depredations by marauding gangs, and defence of remote 



252 The End of the War 

and isolated inland fastnesses, may, perhaps, still be 
continued, but even these can endure but for a time. 

"Not the least significant feature of these triumphs 
is the reception extended by the inhabitants to the 
advancing armies of the Union, their entire acquiescence, 
and, in many instances, their apparently sincere rejoicings 
at the return of its protecting authority over the insurgent 
district. 

"The insurrection has now no port or access to the sea; 
no fixed seat of its pretended Government; no coherent 
civil administration; no army that is not, in consequence 
of repeated defeats, rapidly dissolving into fragments; 
and the only ships that assume to carry its flag are those 
foreign-built vessels, which, from the day their keels were 
laid on neutral soil, have never ventured to approach 
within hundreds of miles of the scene of the insurrection; 
and have only derived their ability to rob and plunder 
from the concession to them of belligerent privileges, by 
powers which have repeatedly assured us of their dis- 
position to be neutral in the strife." 

Next, was the preparation of two proclamations for the 
President's signature, giving notice of the changed 
aspect of affairs as regarded foreign nations. One of 
these announced that, as the Southern ports had been 
recaptured, their blockade was no longer necessary. The 
other gave notice to the foreign governments who had 
refused to vessels of war of the United States the privileges 
to which they were entitled by treaty, public law, and 
international comity, that henceforth their own vessels 
would be treated in precisely the same way by the United 
States, until the obnoxious restrictions were withdrawn. 

So the end had come at last. Joyous and enthusiastic 
crowds were going about the streets exchanging con- 
gratulations. Flags were floating, and music re-echoing 
the glad tidings, — "The cruel war was over." 



Last Meeting of Lincoln and Seward 253 

April, 1865. 

Last Meeting of Lincoln and Seward. Soon after the 
capture of Richmond, President Lincoln went down there 
to visit the army and the city. While there he heard of 
the carriage accident by which my father had been badly 
injured on the 5th of April. 

Returning to Washington, he found that news of the 
great Union successes had spread abroad. Improvised 
meetings and processions were hourly occurring, and all 
Washington seemed to be pervaded with excitement. 

He hastened to visit my father in his sick chamber. 
It was in the evening, the gaslights were turned down low, 
and the house was still, everyone moving softly and 
speaking in whispers. The injured Secretary was helpless 
and swathed in bandages, on his bed in the centre of the 
room. The extreme sensitiveness of the wounded arm 
made even the touch of the bed clothing intolerable. To 
keep it free from their contact he was lying on the edge of 
the bed farthest from the door. Mr. Lincoln, entering 
with kindly expressions of sympathy, sat down on the 
bed by the invalid's side. 

"You are back from Richmond?" whispered Seward, 
who was hardly able to articulate. 

"Yes," said Lincoln, "and I think we are near the end 
at last." 

Then, leaning his tall form across the bed and resting 
on his elbow, so as to bring his face near that of the 
injured man, he gave him an account of his experience 
"at the front," Seward listening with interest, but unable 
to utter a word without pain. They were left together 
for half an hour or more. 

Then the door opened softly, and Mr. Lincoln came out 
gently, intimating by a silent look and gesture that Seward 
had fallen into a feverish slumber and must not be disturbed. 

It was their last meeting. 



254 Lincoln's Last Cabinet Meeting 

Lincoln's Last Cabinet Meeting. On the 14th of 
April, 1 861, the Civil War had opened with the fall of 
Fort Sumter. Four years of battle had followed. Now, 
the return of that anniversary was accompanied with the 
advent of Peace. It was deemed a proper day to again 
raise the Union flag on the fort, with appropriate cere- 
monies. This year it happened that the 14th was also 
Good Friday. 

Early that morning, a messenger from the White House 
brought me a note in President Lincoln's well-known 
handwriting. It ran: 

"Acting Secretary of State: 

"Please call a Cabinet meeting at eleven o'clock today. 
General Grant will be with us. 

"A. Lincoln." 

As my father was confined to his bed by the injuries 
received in his recent carriage accident, I was acting in 
his stead. I sent out the notices, and at the appointed 
hour came Secretaries McCulloch and Welles, Post- 
master-General Dennison and Attorney- General Speed 
soon arrived, and I appeared as representative of the 
State Department. Mr. Lincoln, with an expression of 
visible relief and content upon his face, sat in his study 
chair, by the south window, chatting with us over "the 
great news." Some curiosity was expressed as to what 
had become of the heads of the rebel government — 
whether they would escape from the country, or would 
remain to be captured and tried ; and if tried, what penalty 
would be visited upon them? 

All those present thought that, for the sake of general 
amity and good will, it was desirable to have as few 
judicial proceedings as possible. Yet would it be wise 
to let the leaders in treason go entirely unpunished? 



Lincoln's Last Cabinet Meeting 255 

Mr. Speed remarked that it would be a difficult problem 
if it should occur. 

"I suppose, Mr. President," said Governor Dennison, 
"you would not be sorry to have them escape out of the 
country?" 

"Well," said Mr. Lincoln slowly, "I should not be 
sorry to have them out of the country ; but I should be for 
following them up pretty close, to make sure of their 
going." 

The conversation turning upon the subject of sleep, 
Mr. Lincoln remarked that a peculiar dream of the 
previous night was one that had occurred several times in 
his life, — a vague sense of floating — floating away on some 
vast and indistinct expanse, toward an unknown shore. 
The dream itself was not so strange as the coincidence that 
each of its previous recurrences had been followed by 
some important event or disaster, which he mentioned. 

The usual comments were made by his auditors. One 
thought it was merely a matter of coincidences. 

Another laughingly remarked, "At any rate it cannot 
presage a victory nor a defeat this time, for the war is 
over." 

I suggested, "Perhaps at each of these periods there 
were possibilities of great change or disaster, and the 
vague feeling of uncertainty may have led to the dim 
vision in sleep." 

"Perhaps," said Mr. Lincoln, thoughtfully, "perhaps 
that is the explanation." 

Mr. Stanton was the last to arrive. He brought with 
him a large roll of paper, upon which he had been at 
work. 

General Grant entered, in accordance with the Presi- 
dent's invitation, and was received with cordial welcomes 
and congratulations. He briefly and modestly narrated 
the incidents of the surrender. Mr. Lincoln's face glowed 



256 Lincoln's Last Cabinet Meeting 

with approval when, in reply to his inquiry, "What terms 
did you make for the common soldiers?" General Grant 
said, "I told them to go back to their homes and families, 
and they would not be molested, if they did nothing more." 

Kindly feeling toward the vanquished, and hearty 
desire to restore peace and safety at the South, with as 
little harm as possible to the feelings or the property 
of the inhabitants, pervaded the whole discussion. 

At such a meeting, in such a time, there could be but 
one question, — the restoration or re-establishment of 
the seceded States in their former relations as members of 
the Federal Union. 

The conference was long and earnest, with little diver- 
sity of opinion, except as to details. One of the difficulties 
of the problem was, who should be recognized as State 
authorities? There was a loyal governor in Virginia. 
There were military governors in some of the other States. 
But the Southern legislatures were for the most part 
avowedly treasonable. Whether they should be allowed 
to continue until they committed some new overt act of 
hostility; whether the governors should be requested to 
order new elections; whether such elections should be 
ordered by the General Government — all these were 
questions raised. 

Among many similar expressions of the President, 
was the remark: "We can't undertake to run State 
governments in all these Southern States. Their people 
must do that, — though I reckon that at first some of them 
may do it badly." 

The Secretary of War then unrolled his sheets of paper, 
on which he had drafted the outlines of reconstruction, 
embodying the President's views, and, as it was under- 
stood, those of the other members of the Cabinet. In 
substance it was, that the Treasury Department should 
take possession of the custom houses, and proceed to 



Lincoln's Last Cabinet Meeting 257 

collect the revenues; that the War Department should 
garrison or destroy the forts; that the Navy Department 
should, in like manner, occupy the harbours, take posses- 
sion of navy yards, ships, and ordnance ; that the Interior 
Department should send out its surveyors, land, pension, 
and Indian agents and set them at work; that the Post- 
master-General should reopen his post-offices and re- 
establish his mail routes; that the Attorney-General 
should look after the re-establishment of the Federal 
courts, with their judges, marshals, and attorneys: in 
short, that the machinery of the United States Govern- 
ment should be set in motion; that its laws should be 
faithfully observed and enforced; that anything like 
domestic violence or insurrection should be repressed; 
but that public authorities and private citizens should 
remain unmolested, if not found in actual hostility to the 
Government of the Union. 

It must have been about two o'clock when the Cabinet 
meeting ended. At its close, the President remarked that 
he had been urged to visit the theatre that evening, and 
asked General Grant if he would join the party. The 
General excused himself, as he had a previous engagement. 
He took his leave, and some of the others followed him. 

Then I said, "Mr. President, we have a new British 
Minister, Sir Frederick Bruce. He has arrived in Wash- 
ington, and is awaiting presentation. At what time will 
it be convenient for you to receive him?" 

He paused a moment in thought, and replied : 

"Tomorrow at two o'clock." 

"In the Blue Room, I suppose?" 

"Yes, in the Blue Room, " and then added with a smile, 

"Don't forget to send up the speeches beforehand. I 
would like to look them over." 

I promised to do so, and then took my leave. — I never 
saw him afterwards. 
17 



258 Assassination Night 

Assassination Night. It was the ninth day since the 
carriage accident in which my father had been injured, and 
he still, lay helpless and suffering. His symptoms alter- 
nately inspired hope of his recovery or grave apprehen- 
sions that he could not survive. The physicians held 
frequent consultations. The family took turns in watching 
at his bedside, and two invalid soldiers were sent to 
assist in his care. Aggravated pain and inflammation 
brought on occasional delirium, but every day, although 
unable to talk, he would intimate his desire to be informed 
of current events. 

He essayed to make a suggestion or two In reference to a 
Thanksgiving proclamation, and in regard to the relations 
with Great Britain, but after enunciating a few words 
with difficulty could not continue. He listened with a 
look of pleasure to the narrative of the events of the 
Cabinet meeting. 

Night came, and about ten o'clock Dr. Norris, the last 
of the physicians who called during the evening, had 
taken his leave. The gaslights were turned low, and all 
was quiet. In the sick-room of my father were his 
daughter Fanny and the invalid soldier nurse George T. 
Robinson. The other members of the family had gone 
to their respective rooms to rest, before their term of 
watching. 

There seemed nothing unusual in the occurrence, when a 
tall, well dressed, but unknown man presented himself 
below and, informing the servant he had brought a message 
from the doctor, was allowed to come up the stairs. 

Hearing the noise of footsteps in the hall, I came out and 
met him. When he told me that he came with a message 
from the doctor that was to be delivered to Mr. Seward 
personally, I told him that the Secretary was sleeping, 
and must not be disturbed, and that he could give me 
the message. 



Assassination Night 259 

He repeated two or three times that he must see Mr. 
Seward personally. As he seemed to have nothing else 
to say, he gave me the impression that he was rather 
dull or stupid. 

Finally, I said, "Well, if you will not give me the 
message, go back and tell the doctor I refused to let you 
see Mr. Seward." 

As he stood apparently irresolute, I said, "I am his 
son, and the Assistant Secretary of State. Go back and 
tell the doctor that I refused to let you go into the sick- 
room, because Mr. Seward was sleeping." 

He replied, "Very well, sir, I will go," and, turning 
away, took two or three steps down the stairs. 

Suddenly turning again, he sprang up and forward, 
having drawn a Navy revolver, which he levelled, 
with a muttered oath, at my head, and pulled the 
trigger. 

And now, in swift succession, like the scenes of some 
hideous dream, came the bloody incidents of the night, — 
of the pistol missing fire, — of the struggle in the dimly 
lighted hall, between the armed man and the unarmed 
one, — of the blows which broke the pistol of the one, and 
fractured the skull of the other, — of the bursting in of 
the door, — of the mad rush of the assassin to the bedside, 
and his savage slashing, with a bowie knife, at the face 
and throat of the helpless Secretary, instantly reddening 
the white bandages with streams of blood, — of the screams 
of the daughter for help, — of the attempt of the invalid 
soldier nurse to drag the assailant from his victim, receiv- 
ing sharp wounds himself in return, — of the noise made by 
the awaking household, inspiring the assassin with hasty 
impulse to escape, leaving his work done or undone, 
of his frantic rush down the stairs, cutting and slashing 
at all whom he found in his way, wounding one in the 
face, and stabbing another in the back, — of his escape 



26o Assassination Night 

through the open doorway,- -and his flight on horseback 
down the avenue. 

Five minutes later, the aroused household were gazing 
horrified at the bleeding faces and figures in their midst, 
were lifting the insensible form of the Secretary from a 
pool of blood, — and sending for surgical help. Mean- 
while a panic-stricken crowd were surging in from the 
street to the hall and rooms below, vainly inquiring or 
wildly conjecturing what had happened. For these, the 
horrors of the night seemed to culminate when later 
comers rushed in, with the intelligence that the President 
had also been attacked, at the same hour, — had been 
shot at Ford's Theatre, — had been carried to a house in 
Tenth Street, — and was lying there unconscious and dying. 

On the following morning Secretary Stanton telegraphed 
to General Sherman : 

"Washington, April 15, 1865, 12 m. 

"President Lincoln was murdered about ten o'clock 
last night, in his private box at Ford's Theatre, in this 
city, by an assassin, who shot him through the head with 
a pistol ball. The assassin leaped from the box, brand- 
ishing a dagger, exclaiming 'Sic semper tyrannis, ' and 
that Virginia was avenged. Mr. Lincoln fell senseless 
from his seat, and continued in that state until twenty- 
two minutes after seven o'clock, at which time he breathed 
his last. General Grant was published to be at the 
theatre, but did not go. 

"About the same time, Mr. Seward's house was entered 
by another assassin, who stabbed the Secretary in several 
places. It is thought he may possibly recover, but his son 
Frederick will probably die of wounds received from the 
assassin. 

"Vice-President Johnson now becomes President, and 
will take the oath of office and assume duties today. 



Assassination Night 261 

" I have no time to add more than to say that I find 
evidence that an assassin is also on your track, and I 
beseech you to be more heedful than Mr, Lincoln was of 
such knowledge. 

"Edwin M. Stanton, 
"Secretary of War." 

The country was plunged in grief. Indeed the whole 
civilized world was startled by the news of the bloody 
crimes at Washington. The cities were draped in mourn- 
ing for the murdered President. Hourly bulletins of 
the condition of the Secretary of State gave little hope 
that he could survive his wounds. 

The number and the purposes of the conspirators were 
as yet unknown, and this uncertainty added to the 
general feeling of imeasy apprehension. Energetic efforts 
to ascertain the identity of the assassins and to arrest 
them were at once begun by the military authorities. 
Sentinels paced the sidewalk in front of Seward's house, 
to guard against another attack. Anxious inquirers 
thronged at the door. Letters and telegrams of condo- 
lence and sympathy poured in upon the afflicted family. 

For several days my father lay in a critical state. His 
physicians had feared the injuries from the carriage 
accident might prove fatal, and now to these were added 
the frightful wounds inflicted by the assassin's knife. 
At intervals he was partly conscious, and then would 
lapse for hours into a condition of apparent stupor. 

Of the scenes passing outside he had no knowledge, 
except as they were told him by his attendants. The 
funeral of President Lincoln, the inauguration of Vice- 
President Johnson in his stead, the surrender of Johnston, 
the capture of Davis, the arrest of the assassins, all took 
place while he was still unable to move. 

He used at a subsequent period to tell of his vague and 



262 After the Assassination 

dreamy memory of being propped up with pillows, and 
drawn to the window, to witness the passing funeral 
pageant of the President. The great black catafalque, 
with its nodding sable plumes, caught his eye, but he 
was physically too weak to grasp its full significance. 

After the Assassination. I who write, and you who 
read these things, have to remind ourselves that they 
occurred fifty years ago. Needless then to dwell upon 
the horror-stricken household, the gruesome details of 
surgical relief, the physical pain and suffering, the slow re- 
turn to consciousness, the tedious weeks of convalescence, 
the unavailing grief for the loved ones who succumbed 
to the shock, and the sorrow for the dead President. 

All these things belong to the irrevocable past. 

Let us rather recall with pleasant remembrance the 
loving care for the sufferers, the consummate medical 
skill displayed, and above all the outburst of world-wide 
sympathy throughout all civilized lands, evincing, as no 
other event in our time has done, the Brotherhood of 
Man. 



PART III 
After the War 

Washington, Dec. 29, 1865. 

Our West Indian Cruise. This is the 29th of December. 
Congress has adjourned for the holiday recess. The 
flags are lowered. The Capitol ceases to swarm and 
buzz. Even the throng of visitors at the White House is 
thinned out. Public business slackens. The Diplomatic 
Corps are more occupied with the festivities of the season 
than with notes and despatches, and the Department of 
State has a breathing spell. The time seems auspicious 
for the Secretary to take that brief respite from official 
cares which his physician has warned him that his health 
requires, and which seems essential, if he is ever to recover 
from the effects of his injuries. He has accordingly de- 
cided to take a run down into the genial air of the tropics 
for a month or so. In so doing, he will accomplish a double 
purpose. Besides regaining his strength, he will have an 
opportunity, long desired, of observing the West Indian 
islands, noting their political, social, and commercial 
condition, and studying the problems arising out of their 
proximity to the United States — problems that increase 
in number and difficulty every year, as our rela,tions 
with them grow more intimate. 

The Secretary of the Navy has kindly placed at his dis- 
posal the De Soto a fine steamer of one thousand six 

263 



264 Our West Indian Cruise 

hundred tons, belonging to the Weit Indian squadron, 
which, without departing from her own field of duty, 
can take him to visit the islands speedily and comfortably. 
This will bring him back to work again before Congress 
shall have advanced more than a fortnight in its session, 
so that he will be in time to receive his share of that 
fire of resolutions of inquiry which seem to be the indis- 
pensable preliminary to all legislation and "reconstruc- 
tion." 

Washington, Dec. 30, 1865. 

Today we are sending our supplies down to the steamer. 
Our party will consist of six. There will be two ladies 
(my wife and her sister); two gentlemen, the Secretary 
of State and myself; and two servants (John Butler, 
who has served us so long and faithfully, and Joseph 
Small wood, whose marine experience will render him 
useful on the voyage). 

Our latest advices from the navy yard are that the 
steamer has taken in her coal and is "in the stream, "and 
that we are expected on board tonight. 

On Board U. S. Steamer De Soto, 
Off Giesboro, Dec. 31, 1865. 

Under a bright, clear, moonlit sky we embarked last 
night at the navy yard, on a tug which we found lying 
at the wharf, ready to take us to the De Soto. Half 
an hour brought us alongside of the great black hull, 
towering up above even the smoke pipe of our little craft. 
A voice from above hailed "Tug ahoy!" and inquired 
our errand; and in response to our reply came, "Ay, ay, 
sir. Please to come this way to the gangway. " In five 
minutes more we had shaken hands with the Attorney- 
General, the Colonel, and the squire, had climbed the 



Our West Indian Cruise 265 

ladder, were welcomed by the captain, and were on board, 
" outward bound. " 

Descending to the cabin, we were shortly followed there 
by confused piles of trunks, bedding, crockery, etc., giving 
the party the appearance of a large family just going to 
housekeeping in a small house. A couple of hours were 
devoted to the business of getting things "shipshape," 
and at half -past ten we "turned in," with the comfortable 
assurance that when we awoke we should find ourselves 
steaming down the Potomac below Fort Washington and 
Mount Vernon, and "going out with the tide" to sea. 

Early this morning drum and fife sounded the reveille, 
and daylight (though rather a dim and dubious specimen 
of the article) began to stream down through the sky- 
light. But the ship was ominously tranquil, and there 
was neither clank of engine nor jar of timbers. Presently 
the bell struck thrice. Just so, we said; there is "three 
bells" — signifying, when translated into the dialect of 
land-lubbers, half-past five o'clock. Presently it struck 
three bells again. Then it struck three bells a third time. 
Then it kept on striking three bells every five minutes. 
We began to doubt our familiarity with marine horology. 
"What o'clock is that?" The reply was brief and suc- 
cinct: "Fog, sir." 

Fog it was. And fog it is yet. We are off Giesboro, 
just where we were last night, and though we are already 
out of sight of land, we are not more than half a mile from 
the old cavalry barracks, nor out of hearing of the crows 
that there do congregate. The fog is impenetrable. It 
has congealed on the masts, the rigging, the guns, and the 
decks, covering the latter with a glare of ice, admirable for 
skating purposes, but not well adapted to walking. So 
we sit below in the cabin around the breakfast table, 
reading yesterday's morning papers, wondering what 
they are doing at home, and when anybody will be able 



266 Our West Indian Cruise 

to do anything here. On the latter point we consult 
successively the barometer, the thermometer, the com- 
pass, and the captain. But, so far, they all decide the 
question in the negative. The tide has come and gone, 
but we haven't. 

Off Piney Point, 
Monday, Jan. i, 1866. 

We are steaming down the Potomac at eleven knots an 
hour, and rapidly approaching the Chesapeake. Since 
this time yesterday, it has rained, it has snowed, it has 
frozen, it has thawed, it has grown clear, it has grown 
foggy ; and through these changes we have gradually and 
cautiously felt our way down the river. We have passed 
Alexandria, whose wharves look deserted and desolate in 
these "piping times of peace," though so busy and bus- 
tling during war. We have passed Fort Foote with its 
frowning four-hundred-pounders, and Fort Washington 
with imposing parapets. We have tolled the bell and 
lowered the ensign as we passed the grave of Washington, at 
Mount Vernon. We have passed the Occoquan and Acquia 
Creek, Belle Plain and Indian Head. We have seen the 
deserted ruins of the rebel batteries that once blockaded 
the Potomac from Freestone to Matthias' Point. We 
have noted the spot, marked by a tall, blackened chimney, 
where Ward was killed in trying to carry one of them; 
and have traced the line where Booth crossed, in making 
his escape toward Richmond. We have met and passed 
perhaps a dozen schooners, loaded with hay and oysters, 
where we saw so recently fleets, navies, and argosies of 
warlike ships and transports, appearing as if evoked by 
charm, and now disappearing as if by magic. And with 
them has gone the last of the four memorable years of 
civil war in America. 

This is New Year's Day. Officers and men are exchang- 



Our West Indian Cruise 267 

ing, this morning, the salutations of the season. But 
we have no New Year callers, except a party of seven white 
seagulls, who came early this morning and still follow the 
vessel, occasionally screaming a "Happy New Year" to 
us, and evidently not unwilling to be invited to partake of 
refreshments suited to the occasion. 

As the De Soto threads her way through the devious 
channel, her decks present an animated picture. On the 
paddle-box stands the pilot, encased in india-rubber coat 
and hat, and peering over the top of a screen of sail-cloth 
erected before him to keep off the driving rain and sleet. 
On the other paddle-box stands the lieutenant-commander, 
speaking-trumpet in hand, to give the necessary orders to 
the deck. Behind each paddle-box are tv/o sailors 
heaving the lead, and at intervals chanting, "By the 
deep, five, " etc. At the wheel stand four seamen, under 
the eye of a burly quartermaster, who echoes the word of 
command, "Sou'east, half east, sir," "Ay, ay, sir," 
"Hard-a-port it is." On the quarter-deck the officers 
pace monotonously up and down on their appointed round. 
Away off forward, in the vicinity of the forecastle, groups 
of sailors are standing joking, chatting, scuffling, until the 
boatswain's shrill whistle summons them to some duty. 

For our own part, we keep below today while the rain 
lasts, except an occasional turn on deck to see how we are 
getting on. Our accommodations are ample, and, for the 
sea, spacious. The captain's cabin is our parlour and 
dining-room and library; it is nearly the size of our "yel- 
low parlour " at home. On each side of this is a stateroom, 
and a third sleeping apartment has been ingeniously 
added by a partition slicing off a piece of the ward- 
room. Just behind the staterooms there is, on one side, a 
steward's pantry, and on the other a bathroom. A short 
circular stair leads from the cabin to the quarter-deck 
protected by a tarpaulin from the weather. Light is 



268 Our West Indian Cruise 

supplied sufficiently by skylights and portholes, and heat 
is (or ought to be) furnished by a sheet-iron coal-stove, 
which yesterday chose not to burn, and so let the ther- 
mometer down to forty degrees. But, accidentally, the 
bottom of it fell out last night, and then it worked admir- 
ably, the temperature rising to eighty degrees, and all the 
rooms becoming warm and comfortable. But we hope 
soon to dispense with stoves and overcoats. We have 
come one degree of latitude to the southward, and the 
thermometer on deck has risen from twenty-five degrees 
yesterday to thirty-six degrees today. The shores of 
the river are still white with snow, but the ice is disappear- 
ing from the rigging and the decks. 

January i, 1866. — Evening. 
New Year's Day has brought us to pleasant acquaint- 
ance with our ship and its officers. The captain is our old 
friend, WilUam M. Walker, who has now been thirty-eight 
years in the service. At the opening of the war he was a 
commander. When doubts were expressed about the 
naval officers from "Border States," he settled the ques- 
tion as far as he was concerned, by asking to be "counted 
in" in the expedition to relieve Sumter. He has been 
zealous and active; in the early part of the struggle going 
out to England on a confidential mission, to examine the 
construction of ships, arms, etc.; receiving his captain's 
commission in 1862, and latterly doing good service in the 
Gulf and the North Atlantic blockading squadron. His 
junior officers are fine-looking, active, gentlemanly young 
men, and have all achieved creditable reputations in the 
war. Three of them are graduates of the Naval Academy. 
Mr. Howell, who is from our own State, and received his 
promotion last year to be lieutenant-commander, is the 
executive officer. Lieutenant Sumner is from Kentucky. 
To him is assigned the responsible and laborious duty of 



Our West Indian Cruise 269 

* ' navigating * ' the ship . Lieutenant Read is of New Jersey ; 
has been seven years in the service, and nearly five of 
them afloat. Dr. Kidder, the surgeon, is a Massachusetts 
man, and came into the service at the beginning of the 
war. So did the paymaster, Mr. Cochran, of Philadelphia. 
Mr. Brice, Mr. Locke, and Mr. Roberts are volunteer 
officers of more recent appointment. Then there are 
the engineer officers, under the direction of the chief 
engineer, Mr. Hebard, of New York, who at noon every 
day reports in writing exactly how many pounds of coal 
have been used during the voyage, and how many remain 
in the bunkers. 

The vessel herself is evidently a favourite with the 
officers, as she deserves to be. Built originally for a New 
Orleans packet, she was early seen to be a craft that had 
both speed and strength enough to make her useful in our 
improvised navy. Her spacious cabins were turned 
into wardrooms, officers' quarters, and magazines; eight 
one-hundred-pound Parrott guns mounted on her deck; 
and for the last two or three years she has been cruising 
up and down the Atlantic and Gulf coasts of the Southern 
States, capturing blockade-runners with a success that 
has been much more beneficial to the Government and to 
her officers and men than to the English insurers of those 
ill-fated craft. 

The De Soto began her naval career in 1862 by pouncing 
upon unlucky schooners that were creeping out of the 
Louisiana bayous with loads of cotton, or in with loads 
of powder, etc. The next year she flew at larger game 
in the Gulf and on the Atlantic, and brought in such prizes 
as the steamers Alice Vivian, Montgomery, and James 
Battle, besides various sloops and schooners. 

In 1864, she rounded off her record with the capture of 
the steamer Cumberland. Afterward she was ordered down 
to the West Indies, and was at Cape Haytien at the time 



270 Our West Indian Cruise 

of the "Bulldog affair," which led to the diplomatic 
difficulty between England and the Haytian Republic. 
The De Soto, as Captain Walker describes the scene, took 
no part in the hostilities, though she did help to rescue 
some of the combatants who were menaced with the 
triple danger of bombardment, burning, and drowning. 
To this last narrative, Mr. Seward listens attentively 
though imperturbably, as he sits and smokes his cigar, 
occasionally asking some pertinent question. He has had 
already two official versions of this same story from eye- 
witnesses, one through the American consulate and the 
other through the British legation. And now here is a 
third which differs from both in some material points. 
Nothing is so hard to get at as the exact truth about a fight, 
even when the narrator aims to be perfectly truthful and dis- 
interested. Each one's story necessarily centres in his 
own circle of vision, and his sympathies colour the tale 
unconsciously to himself. Mr. S. does not give his opin- 
ion at present on this mass of conflicting evidence about 
the "Bull-dog," but will look into the case more fully 
hereafter. 

January i, 1866. — Evening. 

We have had our New Year's dinner, and have passed 
on down the Chesapeake toward the Capes. The pilot 
has taken leave of us, and has gone off in a small boat to 
the light-ship near Old Point Comfort. And now we 
have passed the Capes and are at sea. We have just 
been on deck to take our last look at the United States. 
All that we see of them are the two bright lights behind us 
that mark Cape Henry and Cape Charles. 

January 2, 1866. — At Sea. 
Heavy gale! Just imagine it! 



Our West Indian Cruise 271 

January 3, 1866. — At Sea, 
Gale somewhat abated. Seasickness ditto. One by one 
we have crawled up on deck. We sit on chairs and a 
lounge which the officers have placed near the middle 
of the ship. We have breakfasted, after a fashion, on 
chicken broth, and are sitting under an awning that keeps 
off the rain, and comparing notes on the general appear- 
ance of the sea. 

Yesterday, it seems, was passed pretty much in travers- 
ing the Gulf Stream. The thermometer rose from forty- 
two degrees to seventy degrees, and, when plunged into a 
bucket of sea-water, rose to seventy-seven degrees. Sail- 
ing on the Gulf Stream, according to my brief observation 
of it yesterday, looks not unlike cruising on a vast kettle of 
boiling water — the water whitened, troubled, and tossing; 
the air hot, damp, and steaming, and clouds of vapour 
rolling and scudding in various directions. Perhaps this 
resemblance does not hold, however, on a less tempestuous 
day and with a less seasick observer. 

Today we are emerging from the Gulf Stream. The 
thermometer has fallen to sixty-eight degrees. The sailors 
have just drawn a bucketful of water and announce 
the temperature of it to be seventy-one degrees. This 
operation is repeated hourly, as is that of heaving the log, 
by which we learn we are making nine knots an hour. 
About noon the sun came out for a few minutes, and the 
captain succeeded in getting an observation. We are in 
latitude 33 degrees 24 minutes; in longitude 71 degrees 43 
minutes. So we are below Hatteras, and between it and 
Bermuda. Shakespeare was right in calling it "still- 
vexed Bermoothes," when he made it the scene of his 
Tempest. It has been the scene of a great many others 
since, and has a right to be vexed about it. (How did 
Shakespeare, with the light of only such geography as 
existed three hundred years ago, acquire so correct an 



272 Our West Indian Cruise 

idea of it? Perhaps from Sir Walter Raleigh, who was 
one of his contemporaries, and whose voy agings to 
Carolina and back must have made him familiar with the 
weather about Hatteras and adjacent waters.) 

And now we have come sL\ hundred miles from the 
Capes, and nearly eight hundred from Washington. We 
are nearly halfway on our voyage to Santa Cruz, distant 
from us about one thousand miles more. 

The rain circumscribes our view, which is drearily 
monotonous. This afternoon two "Mother Carey's 
chickens" have made their appearance, flitting rapidly 
over the waves a short distance from the ship. Two 
"sails" are also seen — one a large ship labouring heavily 
against the wind, a few miles off on our port side, and the 
other, too distant to be readily made out, on our star- 
board quarter. 

At two bells (five o'clock) the crew is "beat to quarters." 
This, on a man-of-war, corresponds to "evening parade" 
in camp. Two boys with drum and fife beat the signal. 
The marines are drawn up in Hne on the quarter- 
deck, under their sergeant. The sailors are grouped 
around their respective guns and wherever else their 
station is to be in time of action. The officers move 
about from place to place inspecting each group. The 
drum and fife play a national air. The colours are 
lowered for the night, and the men disperse. 

At Sea, January 4, 1866. 

The weather continues stormy. There is a south-west 
gale, with rain at frequent intervals. Today we are all 
together on deck for the first time. We breakfast and 
dine there, after a desultory and irregular fashion, not 
venturing in the cabin more than is necessary. John, who 
has kept up, fortunately, while the rest were seasick, is 
today hors du combat himself. 



Our West Indian Cruise 273 

At twelve o'clock there is a cry of " Sail ho!" Soon we 
see her, a large ship bearing down directly toward us from 
the southward. She has a good deal of sail set, and the 
wind, which is so unfavourable for us, is favourable for 
her. As she passes us she seems to be labouring and 
plunging through the waves, and they occasionally break 
over her bows. The two vessels are not more than half 
a mile apart. They salute each other by raising and 
lowering the national ensign. So she is an American like 
ourselves, but she is not near enough to hail, and we 
shall know no more of her than this. 

A glimpse of the sun is improved to take an observation. 
Latitude 31 degrees, longitude 70 degrees 31 minutes. 
We are south-west of Bermuda, and nearly on the same 
parallel as New Orleans and St. Augustine. We are 
farther south than the Mediterranean, and are nearly on a 
line with Cairo in Egypt. 

The wind toward nightfall changes more to the north- 
ward, and we go below in the hope of better weather to- 
morrow. This afternoon we have made but six knots an 
hour. Our seats on deck have to be lashed fast. 

Our little group of passengers sit huddled on the deck 
back of the "house, " under a short awning spread to keep 
off the rain. Mr. Seward, wrapped up in overcoat and 
shawls, sits in a great chair, whose back is braced against 
the captain's stateroom, and which is lashed fast to keep it 
from slipping about the deck. The ladies occupy, one a 
lounge and the other a chair, both of which are lashed 
fast, and for still greater security the ladies are lashed 
fast in them. Time is divided between the dreary and 
monotonous view of the sea and such books and papers as 
we have brought along to read. 

Today Smallwood comes out brilliantly, and proves 
that he has not been fourteen years at sea for nothing. 
There is a heavy sea on, and it is a sight to see him come 
18 



274 Our West Indian Cruise 

gliding down from the galley, the whole length of the 
deck, with that swift indescribable gait, compounded of a 
shuffle and a slide, dexterously balancing a plate of hot 
soup on the fingers of each hand, and never spilling a drop 
of it. He sways and balances as if -he was part of the 
ship itself; and the soup, in his hands, looks so quiescent 
that it seems natural enough to take the plates into 
our own hands. But if we do, presto change! — it jumps 
about until it is all deposited on our clothes or on the deck. 
I soon find that the only way is to divide the labour with 
Smallwood, he holding the plate and I eating the soup. 
Later we betake ourselves to our snug quarters below, 
and gather round the cabin lamp. Mr. Seward is reading 
history and voyages, the ladies reading the January maga- 
zines, and I writing up the journal of the day. 

At Sea, January 5th, 

High times in the cabin last night! About midnight 
the plates and dishes began to rattle vivaciously in the 
pantry. Cups, saucers, and bottles precipitated them- 
selves headlong, with a frantic desire to smash upon the 
floor. The sugar-bowl took a flying leap across the 
cabin, wildly dashing itself against the opposite door, 
and leaving a white trail across the carpet to mark its 
flight. Trunks rose up and rushed to mortal combat 
with chairs and tables. The stove, hard pressed by blows 
from all sides, held its ground manfully. The sofa 
executed a double somersault in the highest style of acro- 
batic art, only unfortunately breaking its neck in the 
process, and suddenly depositing John, its occupant, under 
the table. The furniture seemed possessed with a desire 
for spiritual manifestations and emulous of the Davenport 
brothers. 

Going on deck today, we find a clearer sky and a fresh 
north-west wind, which rolls us about, but hastens us on our 



Our West Indian Cruise 275 

course. We have our sails set to aid our engine, and are 
making eleven knots an hour, against six yesterday. 
We are now in latitude 28 degrees, longitude 69 degrees, 
and not more than six hundred miles from our destination. 
Last night, for the first time since leaving Washington 
we have seen the moon and a star or two. This morning 
for the first time the deck is dry. The carpenter has been 
called in to restrain the insane freaks of our unruly furni- 
ture, and all is made "snug" and securely lashed. 

At Sea, January 6th. 

We are bowling along at eleven and a half knots an hour, 
and are in latitude 24 degrees. Today we cross the 
Tropic of Cancer, and tonight shall sleep within the torrid 
zone. We have entered upon that region of the trade 
wind "which is nature's highway" of western commerce. 
We have crossed the track of Columbus's first voyage 
of discovery; and San Salvador, where he first landed, 
lies just to the west of us. 

It will be a week today that we have been on board; 
and during all that time we have not seen five minutes' 
sunshine; although we were coming farther and farther, 
as we had supposed, into what is the sun's peculiar domain. 

But though we do not see him, we are steadily gaining 
on him. We have stolen half an hour's march on him 
already, as my watch declares. That, now, says half- 
past eleven o'clock, which is your time in Washington 
while here the ship's bell is striking noon. 

Every day's stay on board brings new illustrations of 
the admirable method and order which characterize a 
man-of-war. A ship-of-war is the locality where that 
often-quoted maxim is followed which, everywhere else, 
is preached but not practised : " A place for everything and 
everything in its place." Every rope is coiled in its own 
particular spot. Every bucket hangs on its own particular 



2/6 Our West Indian Cruise 

peg. Every spike and tool and hatchet, every gun and 
cutlass, every inch of bunting, every grain of powder, every 
ounce of coal is in the place where it can be most conven- 
iently reached and is most commodiously stowed. It is a 
standing remark, how so much can be put away in so small 
a space, and yet every article be at hand at a moment's 
notice. The rule applies equally to officers and men. 
The daily form of "beating to quarters" is gone through 
with, so that a roll of the drum may, at any time, summon 
every man to the post which he is to occupy in action, 
and impress upon him a perfect understanding of what he 
is to do there when that time comes. Thus the ship may 
be put into perfect fighting condition in less time than it 
takes a land pugilist to roll up his sleeves. 

Sometimes the form of "beating to quarters" varies. 
One day all are summoned to the guns; another, all are 
summoned to the pumps. Neither a battle, a fire, nor a 
leak can find the ship unprepared. 

Our cabin, however, is at present an exception. Here 
the usages of civil life have temporarily superseded naval 
system, and here there is chaos enough sometimes. 

Up to the present date we have had no day when we (the 
inkstand will not stand steady on the table, so I write with 
pencil) could sit at table. We have lived literally from 
hand to mouth. Today we made an attempt to lunch in 
the cabin, but it resulted in total failure. The plates 
became endowed with vitality, the herrings turned into 
flying-fish, the apples went off as if to fulfil some engage- 
ment to play at tenpins, and, as the nursery song says, 
"the dish ran away with the spoon." So, on the whole, 
we concluded to dine on deck again, while the De SotOy 
like the world, "rolls on." 

It is the inflexible law on a ship-of-war that, although 
the vessel is well lighted from stem to stern, there must be 
no light not contained in a lantern, and there must be 



Our West Indian Cruise 277 

absolutely no matches. Our exemption from this law we 
concluded to put an end to, last night, on seeing a candle 
jump from its candlestick into the bedclothes ; and espe- 
cially on learning that our cabin was placed just over the 
magazine ! 

Part of the same orderly system of neatness is the contin- 
ual cleaning up that is going on. There is every day some- 
body scrubbing up the brass of the guns, somebody going 
round with a pot of black paint, to touch up the boats, 
the capstan, and the rail. This scrupulous neatness of 
the decks reminds one of the floors of those models of 
cleanliness, the Shakers at Niskayuna. 

It seems that the reason of all the bad weather we are 
having is because there are ladies on board. An old sailor 
recalls the fact that on the frigate where he sailed the 
weather never cleared up until the captain's wife was put 
ashore. We are debating, therefore, whether we are 
to be resigned to storms as long as we shall have the 
ladies on board, or whether we shall throw them over- 
board at once. 

At Sea, January 7, 1866. 

A pleasant Sunday morning. A rainbow gives token 
that the rain is over, the wind and sea have abated, and 
the thermometer has risen to seventy-seven degrees. We 
breakfast for the first time in the cabin — our first breakfast 
this year. The repast only varies from ordinary ones in 
the amount of vigilance required to keep the dishes on the 
table, and the calisthenic postures adopted to keep our 
own seats. 

This morning we have our first sign of land. Two white 
birds are hovering round the ship, and one has perched, 
for a moment, on the masthead. It was somewhere in this 
vicinity that Columbus saw the same indication of his 
nearness to the undiscovered land he sought. 



278 Our West Indian Cruise 

At nine o'clock the drum beats to quarters for Sunday 
inspection. The men are neatly dressed, and all in precise 
order. Everything is carefully scrutinized, from stem to 
stern. Then work is suspended for the day, except so 
much as may be necessary for the navigation of the ship. 
The men are gathered here and there in decorous and 
cheerful groups. The officers are sitting reading under the 
awning; quiet reigns throughout the ship. The whole 
scene presents a Sabbath tranquillity that would do no 
discredit to a Sunday in a country village of New England. 
Usually there is divine service on Sunday morning, the 
captain officiating. Today as the weather and the motion 
of the ship are not propitious, it is passed over. 

As the evening draws on, the stars come out, and we sit 
chatting on deck till late at night, without shawls or 
overcoats, and hardly able to realize that it is not summer. 

Off Porto Rico, Jan. 8, 1866. 
At four this morning the captain notified us, according 
to promise, that we could now see the Southern Cross. 
We were soon on the moonlit deck, and found a calmer sea 
and cloudless sky. Away off in the south were the four 
bright stars forming the brilliant constellation that 
the United States never look upon. Below it, in the dim 
distance, was an obscure dark line, to which the captain 
pointed: "That is Porto Rico." 

January 8th, 12 m. 
Decidedly we are in the tropics. To-day we realize it. 
Blue waves, bright skies, and scorching sun. The mer- 
cury touches eighty-seven degrees. The wind has stmk 
into a soft summer breeze. Thin clothes are in demand. 
The captain dons his straw hat, and the doctor his white 
pantaloons. In the evening there are flashes of heat- 
lightning near the distant horizon. On our starboard side 



Our West Indian Cruise 279 

the zodiacal light streams up into the sky, of a pale red- 
dish tint somewhat resembling a mild aurora borealis. 
Ice-water becomes a staple luxury. Meats have lost their 
relish, and at table we dwell upon pleasing anticipations of 
oranges and bananas. Conversing of some recent event 
at Washington, it was referred to as having occurred "last 
winter" before we remembered that this winter is not over 
yet, and that this is not July. 

Our monotonous sea view was relieved this morning 
by the appearance at the east of us of the rocky little isle 
of Derecho, uninhabited save by gannets and sea-gulls. 
We have entered the Mona Passage, and are now coast- 
ing along the shores of Porto Rico. We can only see 
that they are uneven in height and barren toward the 
crest, but luxuriant in vegetation at the foot, and that blue 
mountains rise behind them. We have scanned them 
with telescope, but can see no cities, villages, or houses, 
either because we are too distant or because there are 
none there to see. To the west of us the dim outline 
of the island of Mona, lying in the centre of the Mona 
Passage, and beyond that is, though invisible to us, the 
coast of San Domingo. 

So the scene of our adventures changes. We are no 
longer on the open Atlantic Ocean. Under the lee of 
Porto Rico, we are cruising in the Caribbean Sea, that 
favourite scene of the fearful tales of the once famous 
buccaneers, the Caribs, and the pirates of the Spanish 
Main. 

Under the lee of Porto Rico the wind is shut off, and 
the sea is calm, like one of our lakes. Peering down into 
its blue depths this morning, a look-out shouted that he 
saw bottom. The bell instantly sounded the signal to 
stop the engine, and for a moment there was excited 
and hasty movement. When the paddle-wheels ceased 
motion, one looking over the side of the ship down through 



28o Our West Indian Cruise 

the clear water could easily see the irregular whitened 
patches of sand and coral. We felt our way cautiously by 
the lead for a while, and presently the chant of "By 
the mark, five!" "By the mark, seven!" "By the deep, 
ten!" "By the deep, twelve!" relieved us from our ap- 
prehensions. 

Latitude, today, i8 degrees. We are below Cuba and 
the greater part of Mexico. We are farther south than 
the great African desert, and about in the latitude of 
Timbuctoo. 

January 8th. Evening. 

All this bright summer afternoon we have been running 
along the shore of Porto Rico. The ship hardly makes 
more than a ripple in the quiet sea, and we sit on deck 
under the awning, fanned by the gentlest of breezes, 
watching the varying outline of the coast, reading and 
chatting about its character and eventful history. As we 
draw nearer to the shore we can observe that the mountain 
ranges run from east to west, and that the broad, level 
country between their base and the sea is covered with 
luxuriant growth of sugar-cane, palms, and coffee-trees. 

Porto Rico is a fertile and productive island, with good 
harbours but few great towns. It has a great deal of trade 
in sugar, coffee, and tobacco, principally with the United 
States. Columbus discovered it in the same year that he 
discovered Cuba. But it has always occupied a secondary 
place in public estimation and in the march of historical 
events. And yet, if the statistics of the Porto Riquenos 
themselves are reliable, it may challenge comparison. Its 
soil is claimed to produce much more to the acre than Cuba. 
Its climate is asserted to be much more salubrious. As 
regards snakes, it is a rival of "Ould Erin," for there 
is said to be no poisonous reptile in its borders. Even in 
the matter of fidelity, it beats the "ever faithful isle," 



Our West Indian Cruise 281 

for it has been three centuries and a half under the flag of 
Castile, and never strayed away to the embrace of invader 
or revolutionist. The English made a lodgment on it 
once, but the mortality among the troops was so great 
that they were withdrawn, which would seem to prove that 
the climate, so salubrious for Spaniards, does not agree 
equally well with Englishmen. Then there was an 
attempted revolution in 1820, but it languished and died 
without ever coming to power. 

But the romantic period in the history of Porto Rico was 
in the days of Ponce de Leon; for this was his island. 
As we look off toward the distant mountains over which 
the golden sunshine is streaming with such mellow tints, 
we recall his golden visions. How he and his followers 
went there from Santo Domingo to seek the precious 
metal, perhaps to find the "El Dorado." How they 
fortified themselves against the deadly poisoned arrows, 
which the Indians were said to dip in the juice of the 
manchineel, so that they caused the instant death of 
whomsoever they wounded. How the poor savages, 
when they saw the gallant and glittering Spanish warriors, 
forgot or forbore to use their poisoned arrows, supersti- 
tiously believing that the white men were invincible and 
immortal, and if killed would come to life again — a belief 
in which they were strengthened by seeing that as fast 
as the Spaniards perished, fresh ones came down to 
join them from heaven, or from Santo Domingo, which 
was the same thing as far as they were concerned. How 
the docile islanders, submitting, were made slaves, and 
compelled to dig for gold, until their cruel taskmasters 
had done to death half a million of them. How Ponce de 
Leon ransacked the golden sands of the rivers, and explored 
the mountain rocks until he had gold to his heart's content, 
sacks and bags full. How he was seized, then, with the 
popular delusion of his time, of seeking the "Fountain of 



283 Our West Indian Cruise 

Youth, " whose waters insure perpetual Hfe and strength 
and beauty. How he interrogated the simple Indians, who 
were ready to acknowledge anything he demanded of 
them, and they told him the fountain was on an island 
away off to the north and west. How he fitted out an 
expedition, and went off to the north and west, cruising 
through the Bahamas and Bermudas, going from island 
to island, and tasting spring after spring, but everyday 
getting older and older instead of younger and younger. 
How, when he was almost despairing, there rose out of 
the sea on Easter morning a radiant vision of an "island" 
of enchanting beauty, covered with such majestic trees, 
carpeted with such rare verdure, and gemmed with such 
charming flowers as never mortal man beheld before. 
How he landed on it and took possession of it, and called 
it ' ' Florida " — the name we call it by to this day. How he 
celebrated high mass, and thanked Our Lady and Santiago 
and all the saints and angels for having brought him, at 
last, to the land of the "Fountain of Youth." How 
months afterward he sailed into the harbour at Porto 
Rico, and his friends rushed down to greet him and ask 
how his errand had prospered ; and how, when he stepped 
ashore, sad and dejected, they drew back and dared not 
ask him, for his grey beard and wrinkled cheeks showed 
that the question would be a bitter mockery. True, he 
had discovered the boundless resources of the American 
continent; but what is the American continent to a man 
who wants the Fountain of Youth ? 

And then, how his gracious Majesty, the King, who had 
not had very great expectations about the fountain, but 
was delighted to hear of any addition to his dominions, 
thanked him and congratulated him on the discovery of 
Florida, and sent him out a commission to be its governor 
and viceroy. How Ponce de Leon loaded up his treasures 
on two ships, and sailed back to Florida, where, like a wise 



St. Thomas 283 

and humane governor, he commenced his reign by exter- 
minating his subjects. How they, being disloyally inclined 
to live, resisted him and fought him, and, unlike the Porto 
Riqueno Indians, did not hesitate to pour a shower of 
arrows into the Spanish ranks, one of which hit and 
mortally wounded Ponce de Leon. And then, at last, 
how the poor old man was dragged down to his boat and 
carried off to Havana, to give up that life which neither 
his gold nor his governorship nor his Fountain of Youth 
could save any longer. 

Eight bells, is it? Then it is time to turn in. And so 
here ends the journal of our first West Indian day. 

St. Thomas, Jan. 9, 1866. 

St. Thomas. At six this morning we were summoned 
on deck by the welcome news that we were approaching St. 
Thomas. Looking from the bow of the steamer, a beauti- 
ful panorama gradually opened before and around us. 
The sky was clear, the sea blue and tranquil, and islands 
rising from it on every hand, of varying size and contour, 
some seeming mere isolated rocks, some resembling green 
hillocks, some like the faint outlines of distant mountains. 
Largest of all, near us and directly before us, was St. 
Thomas, with its high, steep hills covered with verdure 
on the top, but here and there terminating at the base, on 
the sea, in abrupt, craggy cliffs and reefs. 

As we came nearer, the sunshine lightened up two fan- 
tastic shapes. One was a white rock looking like a ship 
under full sail. ("Sail Rock," they call it.) The other 
was a high, rocky wall of variegated tints — red, yellow, 
and purple. 

Presently the hills before us grew more distinct, houses 
began to appear here and there, and gradually the harbour 
opened to view — a deep hollow almost encircled by the 
steep hills, crowned here and there by a fort, a signal 



284 St. Thomas 

station, or a picturesque-looking villa; while the town 
itself, with its regular architecture, its rows of square 
yellow houses with square red roofs, and its circular-headed 
trees, presented an appearance somewhat resembling that 
of a German toy village. It stands on three hills of about 
equal height, making three triangular-shaped groups of 
buildings. Sailing vessels, large and small, under various 
flags, and here and there a large ocean steamer, were riding 
at anchor. Altogether, it was a picture so vivid in colour- 
ing and so suddenly spread before us that it was like the 
drop scene of a theatre. 

And now there comes dancing off toward us a little 
white boat bearing a red flag with a white cross, and 
rowed by men with white clothes and black faces. In it is 
the pilot. He climbs the ladder and gives us the latest 
papers from New York, of the 29th of December, which 
are not so late as our own, and those from Southampton, 
which are later. We enter the harbour, drop the anchor, 
and are presently surrounded by boats whose occupants 
are of every possible shade of complexion ; the men airy in 
straw hats and white and brown linen, the women gorgeous 
in Madras handkerchiefs of bright-flowered patterns. 
These are voluble and earnest in their proffers to do our 
washing or to furnish us with tropical fruits of every 
variety. 

Presently come various visitors : West Indian gentlemen 
with swarthy Spanish features; American merchants and 
sea captains; soon after the United States Consul, and 
under his guidance we row ashore, leaving the jurisdiction 
of the Navy Department for the more accustomed one 
of the Department of State. 

Everything on shore looks quaint, bizarre, and odd to 
our American eyes. It is a medley of all nations, races, 
and languages. Narrow, crooked streets, of hard, dry 
earth, run between rows of Spanish- or Moorish-looking 



St. Thomas 285 

houses, with thick, strong walls, arched doorways and 
windows. They are rarely more than one or two stories 
high. No carriages and no waggons; but here and there 
a horse or a donkey, loaded with sugar-canes projecting 
all around him like the quills of a porcupine. Crowds of 
negroes, of mulattoes, and of people of all shades of colour 
are traversing the streets in a!l directions, all vociferating, 
gesticulating, laughing, talking, shouting, at once. Some 
of the women are carrying burdens on their heads. Most 
of the men are lounging lazily. None seem to have any 
especial aim or purpose ; but they pass and repass, go and 
come, and perpetually reappear, now in one group, now in 
another, now on the sidewalk, now on the street, but always 
shouting, talking, and laughing at the longest possible 
range and on the highest possible key. 

Some are standing in the sun munching bananas, 
some sitting down in the shade and sucking long sticks 
of sugar-cane. Their language is generally English, but 
with Spanish accent and negro intonation that make 
it impossible for a newcomer to understand. Many of 
them are traders. A man requires no other capital than 
a tub at the street corner, half filled with bananas, cane, 
oranges, cocoanuts, sapodillas, and other fruits, plucked 
from trees that grow wild on the hillsides. A woman 
generally carries her stock on a board placed on her head. 
This she balances with the utmost ease and precision, 
almost unconsciously, walking with an erect, queenly 
gait, but without restraint, pausing now and then to drop 
a courtesy, or exchange a remark, or make a bargain 
with perfect self-possession, and spilling nothing, however 
great the crowd or haste may be. 

We stopped at the hotel to rest a moment, and then 
climbed the hill toward the residence of the consul, which 
stands on a fine airy plateau overlooking the bay. 

The houses at St. Thomas are well built, and are pecul- 



286 St. Thomas 

iarly adapted to the climate. One, or sometimes two 
stories high, most of them have windows and doors on 
every side, to catch every breath of air and give every 
faciHty for ventilation. For the same reason, the rooms 
on a floor are so arranged as to be practically thrown into 
one, and this one is opened up to the rafters of the roof. 
It has a strange look to Northern eyes, especially as there 
is no fireplace, no chimney, no place even for a stovepipe. 
Generally the cellar walls are of solid masonry, and a 
substantial flight of stone or brick steps leads to the upper 
door. Thus, in earthquakes and hurricanes, the family 
has only to retire to this basement stronghold to feel 
secure, and the superstructure may topple down or blow 
away, if it chooses. But such events are very rare. The 
houses, for the most part, have apparently stood for forty 
or fifty years without being destroyed by any elemental 
convulsion. 

Within, all arrangements wear the same tropical aspect. 
No carpets, except a rug under the centre table. No 
curtains to obstruct the windows, but cool easy-chairs and 
lounges, fans, blinds, shades, and whatever else may 
conduce to keeping cool. 

The dooryard and garden are as novel as the house. 
There is a profusion of shrubs and flowers and trees, hardly 
one of which can be recognized as having been seen at 
home. It is January, yet the flowers are abundant. It is 
winter, and yet everything is green. It is not the season 
of fruits; yet fruits hang everywhere, tempting the touch 
and the eye. There is the cocoanut, the palm, the banana, 
the orange, the lemon, the shaddock, the forbidden fruit, 
the soursop, the lime, the sapodilla, the plantain, the 
coffee tree, the cotton tree, the India-rubber tree, the 
agave, the guava, and a hundred others, to us new and 
unknown. 

Luxuriant vines and creepers trail up and down the walls, 



St. Thomas 287 

among them roses and jessamines, the only two familiar 
acquaintances we meet. The walks are bordered with 
large conch shells, here worth only a few cents a hundred, 
though with us so rare and valuable. The cacti in varied 
profusion climb up the angles of the house and wall, of 
dimensions that make those of our conservatories look 
dwarf -like. 

Leaving the Consulate, we descended the hill to call at 
the house of Mr. Phillips, an American merchant, who 
kindly offered to place it at our disposition during our 
stay. Here was a pretty children's party going on, in 
celebration of the ninth birthday of his little daughter. 
Some twenty or thirty boys and girls composed the 
guests. Music and dancing, and sweets of all classes, 
graced the entertainment. 

Thence we take a walk through the streets, looking at 
the shops and the churches. Of the latter there are 
many, for the town is composed of all religions, as of all 
nationalities. 

The Episcopal, the Catholic, the Lutheran, the Metho- 
dist, the Baptist, the Jew, are all represented in the church 
edifices ; and looking down the line of wharves, one sees 
the Spanish flag, the English, the American, the French, 
the Russian, the Italian, the Swedish, the Hamburg, the 
Bremen, the Dutch, the Chilian, the Peruvian, the Co- 
lombian, the Brazilian, the Mexican, the Haytian, and I 
know not how many more, waving over the offices of their 
respective consuls. 

On returning to our ship we found all these consuls, 
who had come on board in a body with the Danish gover- 
nor of the island. The latter, with his aides, on reaching 
the deck, was duly honoured with a salute, to which the fort 
— a picturesque, old-fashioned work — responded through 
the mouths of old-fashioned guns, cast long before the 
days of Parrott and Dahlgren. 



288 St. Thomas 

Other visitors followed — the officers of ships, the 
merchants, the citizens, the officials, travellers, etc. After 
that, another row to the town, and a glance at the fish 
market — as curious in its products as the garden. Fish of 
form and colour unknown in Washington Market, some 
brilliant crimson, some bright green, blue, white, and 
yellow, reminding one of those enchanted fish described in 
the Arabian Nights* tale of The Fisherman and the Genie. 
We had some fried for dinner, and found them good 
eating, though, unlike their celebrated counterparts, they 
did not turn into princes and princesses. 

St. Thomas, January loth. 

The night has been enlivened by the coaling of the 
steamer. Like everything else at St. Thomas, this com- 
monplace business here takes on a picturesque aspect. 
The labourers are men with barrows and women with 
baskets, which they carry on their heads, and they march 
on board in procession by moonlight, to the sound of the 
fife and violin, empty their coal into the bunkers, and 
march off again. For a night's work they receive a dollar 
and a half apiece. 

Today is raining and showery and windy. Instead of 
the usual trade wind from the eastward, we have a north- 
wester blowing down from the hills. To us it seems 
pleasantly cool after the heat of yesterday. To the West 
Indians it seems chilly and uncomfortable. We are 
amused at every step by the difference in our respective 
notions of temperature. One gentleman gravely informs 
us that he has experienced a cold uncomfortable night, 
the basis of his complaint being that he was obliged to 
cover himself with a single blanket and spread. 

Another warns us against the bad effects of a draught of 
cold air, and proceeds to close doors and windows against 
what seems to us the faintest and most desirable of 



St. Thomas 289 

zephyrs. When we propose to take a walk, they tell us it 
will occupy twenty minutes, and, to our surprise, it occu- 
pies but five at our usual rate of progression. Invalids 
though we are, we walk distances up and down the hills 
through the misty air, which our St. Thomas friends 
sitting sheltered under verandas and awnings think 
extraordinary and fatiguing. 

To visit a rural seat which a patriotic American has 
rented and christened "Bunker Hill," we take a two- 
horse carriage, one of the two vehicles of that sort that St. 
Thomas boasts. At the foot of the acclivity, however, our 
horses stop and positively refuse to go one step farther, 
apparently thinking this eminence as difficult to be gained 
as its historical prototype was. 

So we ascend on foot, and are amply repaid for our 
trouble by the magnificent view of the harbour, the islands, 
the shipping, and the town which lies at our feet. Behind 
and around us are hills, once cultivated, but now neg- 
lected and desolate, covered with rank grasses, wild herbs, 
and cactuses of every kind, some erect and stiff, some 
recumbent, trailing or climbing, many in flower, and a 
few bearing their ripened, prickly fruit. 

On two of the heights near the town are a couple of 
ancient-looking castellated edifices which were originally 
built as strongholds by the buccaneers. One is called 
"Blackbeard's Castle, " and is popularly assumed to have 
belonged to the renowned pirate of that name. The 
other has a still more doubtful legend which describes 
it as the veritable mansion of that terrible Bluebeard of 
nursery fame ; and the dungeon of the poor lady who tried 
one key too many is pointed out, as well as the tower 
from which "Sister Ann" descried the approaching cloud 
of dust that heralded the coming rescue. 

From the fictitious chieftain we go to visit a real one. 
In a pleasant, airy residence, overlooking the bay, we find 



290 St. Thomas 

the Mexican ex-President, General Santa Anna, who had 
sent congratulations and kind wishes to the Secretary of 
State on his arrival. He rises from his table, covered 
with papers and manuscripts, to bid us welcome with 
Castilian courtesy, and then sits down to chat awhile on 
the past, present, and future of Mexico. He is a large, 
tall, fine-looking man, of Spanish features and complexion, 
dark keen eyes and dark hair, and showing no sign of 
bodily infirmity save a slight limp. One would pronounce 
him between fifty and sixty, instead of being, as he really 
is, nearly seventy. Briefly recapitulating his position in 
reference to Mexican national politics, he says he is, and 
always has been, a Republican and a Conservative; that 
his people have failed thus far in maintaining their inde- 
pendence because they lacked organization and a head; 
that partisan dissensions between them opened the way to 
the French invasion, but that the French domination is 
repugnant to them; that Jaurez is an uneducated Indian, 
once an hostler, incapable of grasping the high responsi- 
bilities of his present position, or of uniting the Mexican 
people in his support; that, on the other hand, the Empire 
of Maximilian is a delusion and a failure, that it loses 
strength instead of gaining it, and is a drain instead of a 
source of revenue to the French exchequer; that the day 
is approaching, perhaps not far remote, when the Mexicans 
will reunite for nationality and liberty; that when they do 
so unite, they cannot but succeed; that he, for himself, is 
impatient for the accomplishment of that patriotic pur- 
pose; that once he sacrificed one leg in fighting for his 
country, and is now ready, if need be, to sacrifice the other 
in the same manner ; that he hopes in this coming contest 
for American sympathy and American aid. Finally, he 
places in our hands a copy of his recent Proclamation, in 
which his views and his purposes are even more fully set 
forth. 



St. Thomas 291 

From Santa Anna's we descend the hill to Mr. Phillips's, 
and thence to the wharf. While waiting for the boat, to 
return on board, we are amused by the scene of street life 
passing before us. A shower comes up, and then a sudden 
gathering of incongruous characters for shelter under the 
awning of the opposite store. A crowd of women, all 
turbaned with Madras handkerchiefs, bearing all sorts 
of burdens on their heads, are standing conversing, or 
rather loudly jabbering at each other, in that negro dia- 
lect which is the principal sound heard at St. Thomas. 
None of them seem to be in the least incommoded by the 
heavy weights they carry, and walk about, gesticulate, 
and laugh and talk, without even taking the trouble to 
set their burdens down on the ground while they are 
waiting there. A caballero, well dressed, but swarthy, 
unceremoniously rides his horse right in amongst them on 
the sidewalk, under the awning, and stands there, his com- 
ing evidently being accepted as a matter of course. Two 
drunken negroes get up a vociferous quarrel, whose 
threatening tones and gestures would seem to imply 
immediate resort to blows; but neither contemplates any 
such result, and they content themselves with noisy 
demonstrations toward each other at a distance of fifty 
feet. Then there comes a lady in the height of extrava- 
gant fashion, dressed in delicate light fabrics, a head-dress 
of Parisian elegance, a train of court dimensions, picking 
her way through the mud in satin shoes. She is a mulatto ; 
as is a gentleman in a high shirt-collar, white coat, and 
pantaloons, and with a dignified step and businesslike 
air, who is pointed out to us as one of the richest men of 
the island. 

We row back to the ship, and find that in the gale she 
has had a narrow escape from serious trouble. She had 
dragged her anchor and drifted nearly into collision with 
the English steamer, and subsequently was in danger of 



292 St. Thomas 

getting ashore. The captain had by vigorous efforts 
rescued her, and she was now securely anchored again at a 
little distance from her former ground. 

At five this afternoon we returned to the town to dine 
with the Governor. He had kindly sent his carriage, 
which was in waiting for us at the wharf. A salute of 
fifteen guns from the fort welcomed the Secretary of State. 
The road led us up a winding but not steep ascent, along 
the hillside and through the woods, to his house, which 
has a commanding position on the very top, and overlooks 
the whole city. We found his family agreeable, refined, 
hospitable, warm in their Danish patriotism, as well as 
fully observant and sympathetic in our American contest. 
His two daughters had just returned to the island, having 
finished their education in Copenhagen. The dinner 
party consisted only of his family and official aides, our- 
selves, and the captain of our ship. The dinner was like a 
dinner in Washington, except that (like ourselves) the 
host and hostess undervalued the productions of their own 
region, and set before their guests foreign delicacies arti- 
ficially preserved. It closed with the pleasant Danish 
custom, the words "Well bekommen, " and handshaking 
with each guest. 

We returned by what looked like a perilous breakneck 
ride, the night being pitch dark, and the road winding 
by abrupt turns around the hillside and along the edge of 
the cliff. Had we been endeavouring to find the way our- 
selves, we should have infallibly driven over the precipice. 
But the Governor's two white horses (the only things visi- 
ble to us) knew the way perfectly and followed it, bringing 
us safely back to the wharf. 

January loth, 1866. 
Yonder, on the heights overlooking the town, stand the 
niins of the two ancient stone structures built and occu- 



St. Thomas 293 

pied, two centuries ago by the buccaneers. While the 
sunshine lights up the jagged outline of their grey battle- 
ments, we sit in the shade of this hospitable veranda, 
enjoying a delicious breeze, and still more delicious tropical 
fruits, while we chat with our companions over what is 
known here about the towers and the piratical rovers 
who built them. 

Traditions and legends of the buccaneers still abound 
in the West Indies, but materials for authentic history of 
them are scanty, for they were not much given to records 
and statistics. 

When they began their piratical career they were 
few in numbers and poor in resources. A becalmed mer- 
chant vessel would have its first warning of them by see- 
ing a small boat stealthily and rapidly approaching, 
with no human being visible above its sides, and present- 
ing only its sharp bows toward the ship, so as to baffle the 
skill of her gunners. Once alongside, up would spring 
fifty or a hundred horrible-looking villains, armed to the 
teeth with sabres, guns, and pistols, who, climbing like 
cats over the bulwarks, would pour down upon the 
deck and commence a bloody massacre of all they found 
there. Desperadoes by profession, they would recklessly 
attack even superior numbers, trusting to the suddenness 
of the surprise to achieve success. Sometimes their 
captain would scuttle his boat as he approached the ship, 
leaving his men only the alternative of drowning or of 
boarding and overpowering the crew. Sometimes he 
would be ready, with lighted match, to fire the magazine, 
in case the fight should go against him, and so send both 
the buccaneers and their victims to swift destruction. 
When the crew surrendered, if they did so without resist- 
ance, and without concealment of whatever valuables 
might be on board, they were sometimes spared and set 
ashore; but even this was a matter of caprice with the 



294 StThomas 

pirates, who, for the most part, seem to have preferred to 
butcher or throw them overboard at once. All sorts of 
wild and some very improbable stories are told of the 
atrocities of Morgan, Montbar, De Basco, Lolonois, Law- 
rence, and other pirate captains who have come to special 
renown, and who still figure with incredible vices and im- 
possible virtues in the pages of popular fiction. 

As a general thing, outward-bound European vessels 
were not molested by them, for these had but little spoil to 
invite attack. Their favourite prizes were the treasure- 
laden galleons from the Spanish Main, whose stores of 
metals and precious stones were at once their most profit- 
able and most portable harvest. 

At first they used to rendezvous at the little island of 
Tortuga, off the north shore of Hayti, where they fortified 
themselves. But very soon their captures supplied them 
with vessels, arms, and wealth, which enabled them to 
enlarge their operations and establish themselves at 
different points on various islands, where they could 
divide their booty, carouse, riot, and squander it, and then 
plan new schemes for getting more. Other reckless char- 
acters from the islands and from Europe flocked in to join 
them, and before long they became masters of the Carib- 
bean. Emboldened by their success on the sea, they next 
turned their attention to the land, and fitted out expe- 
ditions to attack and ravage the Spanish and Dutch settle- 
ments. Maracaibo, Porto Bello, Carthagena, Campeachy, 
and Vera Cruz were successively plundered; and, crossing 
the Isthmus, they took Panama, and inaugurated a new 
series of piratical operations up and down the Pacific 
coast. It is a striking illustration of the feebleness of 
European naval strength and the remoteness of the West 
Indies at that date, that Spain and Holland, two chief mari- 
time powers in Europe, were unable to arrest, or even 
check, the exploits of these bands of piratical adventurers. 



St. Thomas 295 

Their career culminated at last, however, as many a 
better one has, by their "killing the goose that laid 
the golden eggs. " When they had captured or sunk the 
vessels engaged in carrying treasure, and robbed and 
burned the towns where it was stored, the very impunity 
with which they had done it discouraged the renewal of 
the commercial ventures so entirely at the mercy of 
such unscrupulous marauders. "Trade diminished, ships 
decreased in number, and towns were no longer built 
and supplied to be sacked." The buccaneers gradually 
found themselves without business. They scattered in 
various directions ; and those that escaped the hangman, or 
violent death in drunken brawls, were reduced to honest 
industry for a living. So ended that bloody page of West 
Indian history; and so the two old towers at St. Thomas 
fell into dilapidation and decay, as we see them today. 

In the garden they point out to us the coffee-tree with 
its leaves of glossy green, like our laurel. When the fruit 
is ripening it looks not unlike a cherry, red, sweet, and 
palatable. The preparation of the coffee for market is 
simple. The fruit is gathered, dried, passed between 
rollers which remove the skin and pulp from the kernel, 
then passed through a fanning-mill to separate the chafT, 
and it is ready for use. But the longer it is kept the better 
it becomes, for age improves coffee as it does wine. It is 
claimed here that the superiority of the Mocha coffee is due 
to this cause, the fruit being no better except that it is 
preserved longer before being shipped. 

The coffee-tree of Arabia is the parent of all the others. 
The Dutch carried it from there to Batavia, and after- 
ward from Batavia to the West Indies. They presented 
two trees to the King of France, which were kept as curi- 
osities in the royal garden. When a failure of crops 
in Martinique threatened that island with disaster unless 
some new cultivation was resorted to, the French Govern- 



296 St. Thomas 

merit sent out a messenger bearing two shoots from the 
royal coffee-trees. The voyage was long and tedious, 
the vessel's supply of water was scanty, and the King's 
messenger only saved his coffee-trees by dividing with 
them his daily allowance of it. He did save them, and 
they were the original stock of all the coffee- trees in Mar- 
tinique and San Domingo. 

The coffee-tree likes the same tropical climate as the 
sugar-cane, but the sugar-cane prefers the lowland, and 
the coffee-tree the upland. In many islands the two 
crops, on hill and dale, stand side by side, presaging 
the neighbourly position of coffee-pot and sugar-bowl on 
our breakfast-tables. 

Pausing before a market woman surrounded by piles of 
tropical fruit, Mr. Seward inquired the price of her 
bananas. 

"Got no bananas today, mas'r. " 

"Are not these yours, then?" said he, pointing with his 
cane to a hugh pile of the red fruit so abundant, in its 
season, in New York fruit stands. 

"Bress your soul, mas'r, dose not bananas; dose is 
plantains." 

So we learned that what we eat in New York as the 
banana is, in fact, the plantain, here considered not fit 
to be eaten at all until it is cooked, while the delicate 
yellow fruit resembling it is the real banana; but as that 
is smaller, and the American purchaser likes to get a good 
deal for his money, he is furnished with the coarser and 
cheaper plantain. 

The banana and its kindred fruit, the plantain, are food 
of universal consumption in the West Indies. Everybody 
eats them. You find them on the tables of the rich, in the 
hovels of the poor, in the hands of the children, and among 
the rations of the soldier. Their growth is exceedingly 
rapid. Planted from cuttings, the tree attains its full 



St, Thomas 297 

size in a single year, and commences bearing its heavy 
bunches of fruit. 

St. Thomas, January 11, 1866. 

The little steamer which runs between St. Thomas and 
Santa Cruz last night brought over Mr. Moore, our vice- 
consul at Frederikstedt, who, with Mr. Walker, our consul 
here, came on board to breakfast with us. He reported a 
rough night of it, the voyage occupying ten hours. It is 
usually made in two. 

Early hours are among the good habits of the people of 
St. Thomas. The town was apparently all asleep between 
nine and ten o'clock last night, and was all up and doing 
at seven this morning. 

The morning was occupied in visiting the shore, com- 
pleting our purchases, dispatching visits of ceremony, and 
taking leave of our friends. We carry away from St. 
Thomas coffee and tropical fruits, to which collection of 
West Indian products Dr. Brody has added two green 
parrots, some curious minerals and tortoise-shells, a carved 
calabash, and some concentrated oil of bay leaves, suffi- 
cient to make bay rum enough to last a lifetime. 

Between two and three o'clock we took our departure. 
The trip was singularly beautiful, passing surrounding 
islands of all sizes and distances; Santa Cruz before us, 
St. John's and Tortola on the left, and various little rocky 
islets on the right. 

St. Thomas has been not inaptly described as a place 
which is on the way to every other place in the West Indies. 
To go anywhere, from anywhere else, you go first to St. 
Thomas. This is not merely on account of its central 
position, but because of its commercial character. It 
is a free port, and therefore a favourite place for both 
buyers and sellers who want a market. This brings 
shipping and travel, and makes it the point for steam 



298 St. Thomas 

lines and mail communications, both with New York and 
Southampton. 

The island, before the emancipation era, is said to have 
been agricultural. Now it is commercial, merely. All 
its population, and all its activity, is concentrated in the 
town and in trade. The hills and savannas, once occupied 
by plantations of cane, etc., are now deserted, and left to 
wild fruits and trees and grasses. No fences, fields, or 
habitations. 

Of the population of eleven thousand, nearly seven- 
eighths are coloured people of all shades. They are labour- 
ers and traders, as opportunity offers, in the town, but 
few, if any, cultivators of the rural soil. Of the whites, 
there is a sprinkling of every nationality, each speaking 
their own language; but the one prevailing tongue for 
business and social purposes is English. The Danish 
element is an inconsiderable fraction in numbers, though 
it is the ruling one, having all the civil officials and the 
garrison of the forts. 

The story of St. Thomas is briefly this : Just about two 
hundred years ago, the Danes, finding that the other 
maritime nations of Europe were taking possession of the 
islands in the Caribbean Sea, thought they might as well 
take one themselves. They pitched upon St. Thomas, not 
because it had special attractions, but simply because it 
was the only one they could get, being remote and unin- 
habited. The English raised some objection to their 
going even there, but did not insist upon it. So the 
Danes took the rocky little island and planted some colo- 
nists on it, who tried to raise a few hogsheads of sugar. 
There was a capacious harbour on the southern side, but 
nobody attached much importance to that, for in those 
days harbours were plenty and ships were few. The 
Danes left the port open to everybody without commercial 
restriction, for the poor colonists were only too happy if 



St. Thomas 299 

anybody would come into that unfrequented, out-of-the- 
way region to trade with them. 

It was about this time that the "buccaneers" were 
ravaging and plundering on the Caribbean Sea and 
along the Spanish Main, capturing the gold-laden gal- 
leons, hanging their captains at the yardarm, and throw- 
ing their crews overboard. But pirates, like other men, 
when they have gotten a prize, need a port to take it into. 
The buccaneers dared not take captured vessels to the 
Spanish settlements. They could not take them to 
the French and English settlements, for those were on 
the Windward Islands, and they would have to beat all the 
way against the trade wind blowing "dead ahead. " 

But here was the snug, quiet harbour of St. Thomas, out 
of the way of Spanish frigates, without any custom-houses 
to molest, or any courts to make afraid, and so placed that 
their craft would have a favourable breeze, both going 
in and coming out. Very soon, therefore, St. Thomas 
became the favourite rendezvous of the buccaneers with 
their prizes. Very soon, too, traders from afar off snuffed 
up the scent of their ill-gotten gains. As soon as it became 
generally known that there were people at St, Thomas with 
pockets full of gold which they were eager to squander, 
merchants flocked in with everything that such folks 
would like to buy. Then there were others who found it 
equally convenient — smugglers who wanted a place 
from which to run contraband cargoes to Porto Rico and 
Santa Cruz ; vessels in distress that wanted a port to repair 
and refit; merchant vessels, in time of war (which was 
nearly all the time), seeking a neutral port for refuge 
from the enemy's cruisers. To all these St, Thomas 
offered a safe anchorage of easy access, without restric- 
tions, and a good market. It grew and throve, and 
prospered beyond the anticipation of its founders. It 
was the one free port of the West Indies, and soon be- 



300 St. Thomas 

came a centre of trade. "Free traders" (which in those 
days included freebooters) brought it business and life 
and consequence. 

In later years, when the pirates were dead and the 
smugglers suppressed, and "free trade" came to mean 
only freedom from duties and imposts, it continued to 
grow. The settlers named the city after the Danish Queen, 
Charlotte Amalia; and the Danish Government wisely 
abstained from collecting revenue, preferring to let nat- 
ural laws continue to build them up a great commercial 
entrep6t there. When steamers began to take the place 
of sailing packets, they naturally followed the same 
channels of trade, and so St. Thomas has come to be a 
place where steam lines converge. Furthermore, it hap- 
pens to be so centrally placed that lines drawn from Eng- 
land to Central America, from Spain to Cuba and Mexico, 
from the United States to Brazil, from the Windward 
Islands to the Leeward ones, all meet and cross each 
other there; and you will see, riding at anchor in its har- 
bour, steamers from Southampton, from New York, from 
Bordeaux, from Cadiz, from Bremen, besides sailing craft 
wearing the flags of every nation that "goes down to the 
sea in ships. " In a word, St. Thomas is the result of three 
advantages it has over other West Indian islands — a fine 
harbour, a central position, and freedom of trade. 

There are in the world a few isolated points whose 
possession enables the power that holds them to control 
trade, and to direct naval and military operations with 
especial advantage. Gibraltar and Aden, the Darda- 
nelles, Sebastopol, Panama and Havana, Quebec and Key 
West are such places. Great Britain especially has always 
had a keen eye for such points. They have enabled her to 
domineer over remote regions, very unexpectedly to their 
inhabitants. She finds such an one in a sterile rock, 
a worthless sand-bar, or narrow strait; and presently it 



St. Thomas 301 

bristles with her guns and forts, and surrounding nations 
find she has made a succcessful move in that great game of 
chess, of which the world is the board and we are all castles 
and pawns. 

St. Thomas is a point of this sort. Happily, it early fell 
into possession of Denmark, an enterprising power, strong 
enough to keep it, but not aggressive enough to use it as a 
base of warfare. It has as peculiar advantages for a naval 
station as it has for commercial support. Dangerous 
reefs and breakers surround it, so that it would be difficult 
to land troops to attack it, and it would be easy to repel 
such attack by fortifications on its commanding heights. 
The harbour is a great basin, capacious enough for a small 
navy ; and its entrance, though safe and easy, is through 
a narrow strait, which even the diminutive forts and 
antiquated ordnance of the Danes are able to defend. Its 
history demonstrates that it is the place of places to coal, 
repair, refit, and take refuge from enemies or storms. It 
would have been of infinite value to us had we owned it 
during our late war, and of great value to the Confederates 
had they owned it. It was fortunate for us that it was 
in the possession of a power not only just, but friendly 
to the United States. Our vessels, however unfairly 
treated at British and French ports, found always a wel- 
come at St. Thomas, a place for repairs and supplies, and 
one that gave no aid or comfort to the rebels. 

The early Portuguese and Spanish discoverers were good 
Catholics. When they came to a new locality they gener- 
ally named it out of the Church calendar in honour, some- 
times, of their own patron saint, sometimes of the patron 
saint of their country, sometimes of the saint on whose 
day the discovery was made. So nearly every apostle, 
evangelist, and martyr came to have his seaport, his 
island, cape, or mountain. 

Columbus gave to the first land he discovered the title 



302 Santa Cruz 

of the "Island of the Holy Saviour" (San Salvador). 
Cuba he did not name, having some doubts whether it was 
not the Asiatic Cipango. So it has retained its aboriginal 
name to this day. Hayti, the island he prized highest 
of all he had found, he affectionately and patriotically 
called "La Isla Espanola" (The Spanish Isle). Upon its 
ports he bestowed saintships freely. When he came to 
this group of what seemed to be a myriad of little islets, 
he named them the "Virgin Islands," in honour of St. 
Ursula and her eleven thousand virgin martyrs, whose 
bones are still exhibited to incredulous eyes at Cologne. 
Later, when irreverent Dutch, English, and Spanish 
navigators got among them, some of the virgins were 
rechristened, in detail, with odd enough names, based 
usually on some fanciful resemblance seen from the ship's 
deck. Thus, one is "The Hat" (sombrero), another "The 
Thatch," while others are "The Turtle," "The Crab," 
"The Snake," "The Prickly Pear," "The Fat Girl," 
"Beef Island, " and " Jost Van Dykes, " with an occasional 
sprinkling of saints — ' ' St, Peter, " "St. Thomas, " "St. 
John," and "Santa Cruz." 

We steamed over to Santa Cruz before dusk, in time to 
have a fine view of the island, and of the harbour of 
Frederikstedt. But the wind had raised an unusual 
surf, and the landing after dark was found difficult, and 
so reluctantly abandoned till morning. The harbour is 
rather an open roadstead; and, though the customary 
trade wind does not reach or disturb it, it is exposed 
to high winds from another quarter. 

January 12, 1866. 
Santa Cruz. Early this morning we debarked at the 
wharf at Frederikstedt. Mr. Moore, the Acting Consul, 
had carriages in readiness, and in them we traversed the 
island from one end to the other. 



Santa Cruz 303 

It was a drive of about twenty miles over a road of easy 
grade and curves, and throughout its whole extent almost 
as smooth as a floor. On each side of it was a continuous 
row of cocoanut and mountain cabbage palms. Similar 
avenues diverged from it and crossed it at various points. 

The fields by the roadside and as far as visible were 
planted with sugar-cane and tropical fruits. There were 
no fences or hedges, and the general aspect of the land- 
scape was that of a great garden, luxuriant vegetation 
covering every hill and dale, with here and there a group 
of white buildings amid the trees. 

These were the mansions of the owners of the sugar 
estates, each surrounded by its mills and labourers' cot- 
tages. The labourers themselves were of all shades of 
colour, all busy, and for the most part tidy, intelligent, 
and thrifty -looking. 

Remembering our single harvest of hay in the course 
of a year, it occurred to me to ask how many such harvests 
there were during the year in this island. Mr. Moore 
could not say, but, stopping the carriage, inquired of an 
old negress who was cutting the grass around her cottage 
with a sickle, "Auntie, how often do you cut the grass 
here, in the course of a year?" 

"Law, sir, I dunno, I 'spect we cuts it every time it 
rains. " 

That explained why there were no haystacks. The 
hay-harvest, it seems, is perpetual. 

This reminded one of the gentlemen who accompanied 
us of an experience that a New Englander had, who 
brought a hive of bees here from the States, thinking 
they would make honey for him all the year round. But 
the bees, after the first year's experience, discovered that, 
where there was no winter, there was no need of laying 
up stores of honey, so they abandoned the habit of making 
any, except for daily use. 



304 Santa Cruz 

A noticeable feature of the drive was the frequent 
appearance of schoolhouses, at almost every junction of 
crossroads. They compared very favourably with 
country schoolhouses in New York and New England. 

It was about noon when we arrived at Christianstedt. 
This is a seat of government, whose offices are in a sub- 
stantial and stately edifice. 

The Governor received his guests with military honours 
and a collation. Here we met some Americans who 
were spending the winter in the genial climate of Santa 
Cruz. Among them was our old friend Mr. Wells of 
express fame, and the founder of Wells College at 
Aurora. 

After an hour or two spent in looking at the government 
buildings and walking through the streets of the quaint, 
substantial little capital, we returned to Frederikstedt, 
the Governor and his staff accompanying us. On the way 
we stopped at one or two of the larger sugar estates, to see 
their methods of making sugar and to look at the view from 
them of the Caribbean Sea. 

My father was much interested in the conversation of 
these intelligent and well-informed Danes. He inquired 
particularly into the laws and general polity which had 
prevailed in the government of these islands. Besides 
the little islets, there are but three of any considerable 
magnitude, — St. Thomas, St. John, and Santa Cruz, One 
of these is the garden spot, and another the favourite har- 
bour of the West Indies. Using them with judgment, and 
treating their inhabitants with paternal kindness, the 
Danes have governed these islands wisely and well, and 
have led their people gradually into the paths of industry, 
morality, and competence. Denmark, alone of all the 
European Powers having West Indian possessions, has 
solved successfully the problems presented by Emancipa- 
tion. 



Santa Cruz 305 

"As you know, sir/* remarked one of the officers, 
"emancipation in the other islands reduced many of the 
whites to poverty, drove others to Europe, decreased 
population, ruined trade, left towns to decay and fields 
to run to waste. But here careful forethought and strict 
administration have maintained prosperity. " 

I observed that everybody I saw was at work. There 
were no loungers. 

"There are none. Every proprietor cultivates his land, 
because it is his interest to do so. Every labourer works 
under a contract regulated by law for his advantage. He 
has, besides his wages, a piece of land allotted to him, where 
he can raise vegetables for his family or for market. 
He is given a half or a whole day, in each week, to cultivate 
it, and is expected to do so. Every landowner has to keep 
the road good which passes his property, and to keep up its 
rows of palm trees, by replacing any that die or are de- 
stroyed. Every child has a schoolhouse withm walking 
distance and is required to attend it, unless sick. 

"You are about to experience the effects of Emancipation 
in your Southern States, Mr. Seward. Would not some 
stringent laws like these avert the danger of their falling 
into disorder or decay?" 

"Possibly. But our system of government, you will 
remember, is very different from European ones. It is 
one of our doctrines that the best government governs 
least. We try to guard the rights of person and property, 
but trust greatly to individual enterprise. Our people are 
impatient of too close a supervision of their business 
affairs, and think they can manage them better than any 
government can. " 

"It must be conceded that they have done so thus far. " 

It was just dusk when we parted from our hospitable 
friends, who accompanied us to the wharf. In another hour 
we were taking our last look from the De Soto's deck at the 



3o6 San Domingo 

Isle of the Holy Cross, 
Gem of the Carib Sea. 

At Sea, Jan. 13, 1866. 

San Domingo. Let us take an inventory this morning of 
the tropical curiosities and products which have accumu- 
lated in our cabin during our three days of West Indian 
island visiting. First, there are two green parrots; one 
with a yellow head, staid and taciturn, one with a red head, 
voluble and conceited. Next we have two barrels of 
tropical fruits, limes, lemons, oranges, cocoanuts, bananas, 
etc., upon which we live luxuriously three times a day. 
Then there are two bags of coffee from San Domingo. 
Then there is a quaintly carved calabash from Venezuela, 
some rich mineral specimens, and some tortoise-shells from 
the same locality. Then there are two bottles of the quin- 
tessence of perfumery, viz., the essential oil of bay leaves, 
one drop of which is warranted to prepare a quart bottle of 
bay rum. Then there are canes of the lime and orange 
trees that grow at Santa Cruz. 

Santa Cruz and Jamaica are both celebrated for their 
rum. It is hardly necessary to say that it is age which 
gives it its chief superiority. The cane doubtless grows as 
well in other islands, but the rum distilled from it either is 
not as well made or as long kept as in these two. Even 
in these, new rum is hardly distinguishable from that of 
other localities, and the old is not to be had except by 
taking some time and pains to find it. Evaporation 
gradually diminishes its quantity, and when it has attained 
the ripe age of twenty-four years it has shrunken to 
one quarter of its original bulk, has lost all sharp, fiery 
taste, and is smooth, oily, and strong. 

This morning we are steaming past Porto Rico, and are 
just coming in sight of the distant mountains of San 
Domingo. The sea is almost unruffled; and, as the 



San Domingo 307 

steamer ploughs it up, flocks of little white birds seem to 
rise from it, scud above it a few hundred yards, and then 
plunge into it again. These are flying-fish. They are 
graceful little creatures, some of whom we could gladly 
welcome on board : but they are proof against the ordinary 
seductions of net, hook, or line. 

San Domingo, Jan. 14. 

Sunday morning flnds us at anchor in the roadstead off 
the city of San Domingo, the oldest city of the Western 
Hemisphere, dating back to the days of Columbus, of 
whom it was the creation, the prison, and the tomb. 

Seen from the steamer, it looks like an ancient Spanish or 
Moorish stronghold. A wall of masonry runs completely 
round it, flanked by bastions and a fort which commands 
the entrance to the river Ozama, on which it stands. 
Even from here it can be seen that many of the buildings 
are large and were once imposing, but now dilapidated 
and nearly in ruins. 

The De Soto rocks and rolls at her anchors a mile and a 
half off from shore. There are but ten feet of water on the 
bar at the mouth of the river, and she cannot cross it. 
Why was this harbour chosen by Columbus for his colony, 
when he had already found so many better ones ? Simply 
because the Ozama was just the right size for the caravels 
of his day, and he did not foresee the great steamers 
and clipper-ships of the future. Modem vessels have 
grown too large for San Domingo, and so its trade has 
fallen off and its buildings gone to decay. Only schooners 
and light-draught ships can pass into it. 

We sat down to breakfast, and wondered the captain 
did not join us. Finally, just at the close of the meal, he 
descended the cabin stairs. 

"Captain," said Mr. Seward, **yo^ ^^ ^^"^^ ^^is morn- 
ing." 



3o8 San Domingo 

"Yes, sir," replied the captain, a smile lurking about 
the corners of his mouth. ' ' I was less pleasantly employed. 
I was fishing an American Consul out of the Caribbean 
Sea." 

' * Out of the sea ! What happened to him ? ' ' 

"Why, he came off from town with the lieutenant, and, 
as you may notice, there is a pretty high sea running this 
morning. The time to step up out of the boat to the side 
ladder is (as you are aware, sir) when the wave is lifting 
the boat toward it. Unfortunately the Consul hesitated 
too long, and stepped out just as the boat was dropping 
away from the ladder, and, of course, he stepped into the 
sea." 

"But he was rescued?" 

"Yes, one of the crew succeeded in catching his coat 
collar with a boat-hook and brought him up. We even 
rescued his hat, which had fallen off in the melee. " 

"Where is he? Won't you bring him down into the 
cabin, wrap him up in warm blankets, and give him some- 
thing restorative?" 

"I proposed that, but he declines, with thanks. He 
says he is not exactly in fit condition to be presented to the 
Secretary of State. He will sit awhile on the quarter- 
deck, where this hot sun will dry him quicker than any- 
thing else would, and he will then pay you his respects. " 

Sure enough, when we went on deck we found the Con- 
sul sitting there quite dry, and not looking at all like a man 
who. Aphrodite-like, had just emerged from the ocean. 
He was an intelligent gentleman, a Southern man, loyal 
to the Union ; and gave us his observations on the Domini- 
can Republic during the brief time he had resided here. 

After a short interview with the Consul and his friends, 
we proceed to the shore, having first exchanged the compli- 
ment of a salute with the fortress. We row under the 
guns of the latter, and find it has been once a work of great 



San Domingo 309 

strength; but that the sea dashing against its base, and the 
winds and waves of three hundred years beating against its 
walls, have shorn it of much of its former grandeur. The 
masonry is of a thickness of several feet, which has con- 
duced much to its preservation so long. Its general 
aspect is rugged and picturesque in the extreme. 

A walk up from the wharf through the streets seems like 
a visit to another century, so antiquated does everything 
appear, so different from anything we have seen elsewhere. 
The streets are long, narrow, unpaved for the most part, 
though hard and dry. The houses on each side are of 
the Spanish style of architecture of three hundred years 
ago. On the main street, where most of them are used 
for shops, repairs keep them in tolerable condition. In 
many other quarters they have become mere ruins, 
or are turned into hovels for the poor. 

The inhabitants are of all shades of complexion, save 
that few are entirely white, and few are entirely black. 
They are mulattoes, quadroons, mustees, etc., nearly all 
having a Spanish cast of features. Some of the ladies, 
going with their children to church, are exceedingly well 
dressed in the Spanish fashion, with mantillas or veils, and 
would easily pass muster in Madrid, There is some infu- 
sion of Indian blood, perhaps, but its characteristics are 
not distinctly marked. Their language is, almost without 
exception, Spanish, with a peculiar local accent. 

We stop a moment at the office of Mr. Cazneau, an 
American merchant here, and then go to the National 
Palace to visit President Baez. 

The palace is well preserved, handsome, and well fur- 
nished. A broad flight of stairs, guarded by coloured sol- 
diers in the Dominican uniform, leads to the reception 
room ; and there we find the President and his Cabinet, all 
swarthy, Spanish, and apparently well-bred gentlemen. 
President Baez is himself a man of medium size and pre- 



3IO San Domingo 

possessing appearance. He seats himself with the Secre- 
tary of State of the United States on the sofa at the top 
of the room, while the others occupy chairs arranged 
in two rows, leading up to it like an aisle. 

The interview is an important one for Dominica; for, 
though unofficial, it involves the question of the recogni- 
tion by the United States of her present government. 
President Baez, speaking through an interpreter, briefly 
recapitulates the revolutionary events that have preceded 
his advent to power, and points to his ministers, who 
comprise among them General Cabral, General Pimentel, 
General Serrano, each the chief of a revolutionary party, 
now all united in one administration, to give peace 
and permanence to the country. He closes by frankly 
admitting that his government still needs one thing 
to assure it ; but, with that, will be strong and firm — that 
is, a recognition by the Government of the United States. 

Mr. Seward's remarks, in reply, briefly recapitulate 
the past history of the United States, in regard to questions 
of recognition of American republics, and especially that of 
republican governments founded by the race represented 
here. They refer to the future relations and the unity 
of interest existing between the republics of this hemi- 
sphere, and especially the relations and the duties of 
the United States in regard to them. Finally, they give 
what is equivalent to an unofficial but reliable assurance 
that the recognition of the present government of the 
Dominican Republic by the United States will not be 
long deferred. 

He adds: "We have built up in the northern part of the 
American continent a republic. We have laid for it a 
broad foundation. It has grown upon our hands to be an 
imposing, possibly a majestic empire. Like every other 
structure of large proportions, it requires outward but- 
tresses. Those buttresses will arise in the development of 



San Domingo 311 

civilization in this hemisphere. They will consist of 
republics founded like our own, in adjacent countries 
and islands, upon the principles of the equal rights of men. 
To us it matters not of what race or lineage these repub- 
lics shall be. They are necessary for our security against 
external forces, and perhaps for the security of our internal 
peace. We desire those buttresses to be multiplied and 
strengthened, as fast as it can be done, without the exercise 
of fraud or force on our part. You are quick to perceive 
the use of the main edifice in protecting the buttress 
you have established here; and thus it happens the repub- 
lics around us only impart to us the strength which we, 
in turn, extend to them. We have therefore no choice 
but to recognize the Republic of Dominica as soon as 
it shall afford the necessary guarantee of its own stability. 
We have only been waiting at Washington for the report 
of our Consul here, giving us satisfactory evidences of this 
stability and permanence. " So the interview terminates 
very satisfactorily. 

Thence to the Cathedral — a fine old structure of massive 
masonry, and in heavy mediaeval architecture. It is in 
good repair, and its altars and shrines are profusely, not to 
say gaudily, ornamented. 

Numerous pictures, mostly of the Saints, adorn it. 
Under a slab in the central pavement was pointed out to us 
the place where the remains of Columbus were interred, up 
to the time of their removal to Havana during the present 
century. In one of the chapels is an interesting histor- 
ical relic, the wooden cross which Columbus planted on his 
first landing on the island. Then we went to the ruins of 
the Convent of Santa Clara. In its time, it must have been 
a magnificent structure. The heavy walls, with arched 
cells and cloisters, the deep wells, the flat tiled roofs, 
are in some places in tolerable preservation, in others in 
decay and ruin. The convent garden is all weeds and 



312 San Domingo 

thickets. In various parts of the edifice were families 
of poor people, who had evidently been glad of so eligible 
an opportunity to find house room, rent free, subject 
only to the trifling inconvenience of having the windows 
and doors gone, and the roofs and walls considerably 
dilapidated. But in this climate perhaps these are not 
important considerations. 

Difference of climate brings differences of taste. In one 
of the shop-windows today we saw a pair of very ordinary 
looking American quails, in a handsome cage, for sale at 
twenty dollars; while parrots were to be had for a few 
shillings. Quails being rare here are kept for household 
pets, while parrots, being plenty, sometimes get stewed 
for soup. 

Looking down on the harbour just below us, we see a 
pelican describing slow and stately circles, ending with a 
sudden plunge into the water, out of which the bird emerges 
with a fish in his mouth. Then, flapping his wings, he 
betakes himself to some more secluded spot to devour 
his prey or divide it among his family. Nobody seems to 
molest these pelicans while they are making their solemn 
gyrations just above the roofs of the houses and the masts 
of the ships. 

There is a picturesque drive outside the walls of the 
city. Two diminutive Spanish horses and an antiquated 
looking chaise soon take us there. Passing through an 
ancient gate, with walls and guard-house of solid masonry, 
around which sentries are pacing and soldiers off guard 
are lounging and chatting, we find ourselves on a level and 
tolerably good road, evidently once a handsome highway. 
It winds, following the course of the coast, though it is 
at some distance from the sea. On both sides of it are 
plantations and country seats of the hidalgos of olden 
time. Their buildings are old, dilapidated, and neglected. 
Some are in ruins; some partly repaired and occupied by 



San Domingo 313 

the landowners ; others have become mere hovels for labour- 
ers. Rich, luxuriant, tropical vegetation has grown up in 
tangled thickets, half hiding the houses, overrunning 
walls and fences, choking up roads and paths. 

We meet no carriages or wagons, but occasionally men, 
women, and children, mounted on donkeys, whose loads of 
cocoanuts, bananas, and sugar-cane so cover them up 
that hardly more than the head and ears of the animal 
are visible. 

We descend to look at one of the villas, and, passing 
over a fallen gate, and through paths overgrown with weeds, 
go up to the mansion, once stately, now dilapidated, sur- 
rounded by ruined offices and outbuildings. Its broken 
windows open on a spacious veranda, commanding a 
magnificent view of the ocean. Here we rest, while 
the driver attempts what seems the impossible feat of 
bringing down some cocoanuts from a palm tree in the 
grove nearby. Its forty feet of straight, smooth trunk 
look inaccessible enough. But, with the skill of an ex- 
pert, he takes a long rope, makes a slip-knot in it, 
fastens one end to the trunk and contrives to throw the 
other over a branch, and, mounting this improvised lad- 
der with cat-like agility, presently comes sliding down 
with a dozen fresh cocoanuts, full of sweet, watery fluid, 
in such state as we never see them in the United States. 
The drink is palatable, but warm, and, to our Northern 
tastes, seems as if it would be vastly improved by a little 
ice. 

Returning to the city, Mr. Cazneau, who is engaged 
in mining, told us he imported his labourers from New 
York. On our expressing surprise, especially as the 
streets seem just now to be full of unemployed idlers, 
he said he found it impossible to rely upon them. They 
were unwilling to work for more than a few hours at a time, 
and not that unless for some special purpose. He said 



314 San Domingo 

that he used to go among them offering two or three or four 
dollars per day. Their reply would be, "No, mas'r, don't 
want to work. " 

"But you are in rags. Don't you want to earn some- 
thing to buy clothes?" 

"No, mas'r, don't want much clothes. Too hot for 
clothes." 

"But how can you live, if you are idle? You must 
want to earn enough to buy food for your family?" 

"Oh, no, mas'r! Plenty banana — plenty banana!" 

So he had to give it up in despair. 

We visited other ruins and other streets, glancing at 
the shops, priced a few articles, including flamingos and 
monkeys, and then went down to the wharf. On the 
way we passed and visited the ruined palace, built by 
Columbus's son Diego, who was at one time governor. 
We clambered up its ruined steps and walked through 
the dilapidated chambers and terraces, finding the same 
architectural features as in the other buildings visited. 
The only wonder is, that a town built so long ago, and 
devastated by hurricanes and earthquakes, by sieges and 
captures, by the British, the Haytians, and the Spanish, 
and by the lapse of so much time, should have any walls 
left standing. 

As we entered the boat, the ruins of the prison where 
Columbus was confined were shown us. They stand on 
the bluff on the opposite bank of the river. 

The Dominican soldiers, not uniformed and not very 
well clad or equipped, were to be seen in considerable 
numbers at the barracks and on guard duty. A few at 
the palace were an exception to this rule, appearing neat 
and well armed. They are all coloured men, mostly of the 
darker hues. 

We took a parting look at the city from the steamer, and 
at the adjacent forest of truly tropical luxuriance, the 



Hayti 315 

trees of immense size, and the underbrush, thick, wild, and 
varied. 

So we leave this curious antiquated town and the 
Spanish part of the island of San Domingo. Next we visit 
its western portion, once French, now independent, where 
the African race, with less mixture, holds complete sway. 

Bay of Gonaives, 
Off Port-au-Prince, Jan. 16. 

Hayti. This morning, on looking out of the port- 
hole, we find the Southern Cross shining brilliantly on 
that side of the ship which we have been accustomed to 
consider north. The sun, too, rises today over our bow 
instead of over the stern. It seems we have changed 
our course during the night, and, instead of westward, are 
proceeding almost due east. This is in consequence of 
the peculiar configuration of the island. 

To reach Port-au-Prince from San Domingo, it is neces- 
sary to make a complete circuit around the long strip of land 
which lies on the southern side of the Bay of Gonaives. 

The day has been spent in steaming up the bay. It is 
one hundred and twenty miles long and gradually narrows 
as we go up toward the city. High mountains are visible 
on either side. The picturesque island of Gonave, and the 
numerous islets and coral reefs, render the general appear- 
ance of the landscape not unlike that of some parts of the 
St. Lawrence and the Hudson. Our approach to the 
capital brings into view indications of its commerce. We 
have passed several brigs and schooners during the day, 
and an English steamer is just coming behind us. Nu- 
merous little coasters, deeply laden with sacks of coffee 
and logwood, are running into the harbour before the 
wind. 

The harbour itself offers a fine prospect. Lofty hills 
around the farther extremity rise like an amphitheatre, 



3i6 Hayti 

and midway in the scene, at their foot, is the city of Port- 
au-Prince, rising from the water on a gentle eminence, 
crowned with what seems a commanding fortification. We 
come to anchor just after sunset, about a quarter of a 
mile from the shore. The wharves seem to be tolerably 
filled with shipping, and three ocean steamers are at 
anchor near us. Two are Haytian men-of-war, one of 
which is the Galatea, lately purchased from our Govern- 
ment, and which is manned by a crew of "contrabands" 
and coloured men from New York. Discipline seems 
to be well preserved, and naval customs all complied 
with on her decks, except that there is an unusual amount 
of noise, both in the execution of orders and in the singing 
with which the sailors relieve the monotony of their 
existence. 

The United States Commercial Agent, Mr. Conard, 
came on board to make us a visit, and was soon followed 
by Mr. Peck, the Commissioner and Consul-General. As 
it was too late to go ashore tonight, we have sat on deck 
together and had a long conversation in regard to the 
political, commerical, and social condition of the Haytian 
people, and have arranged to start at an early hour 
tomorrow morning to see the capital of this peculiar 
republic. 

Port-au-Prince, Jan. 17. 

At sunrise, this morning, the De Soto saluted the Hay- 
tian flag, and a few minutes after came an answering 
salute from the water battery. We pulled ashore, and 
landed at the wharf near the American Consulate. 

The first thing that strikes the eye of the visitor is, that 
everybody on shore is decidedly African, in complexion 
and feature. White men are as few and exceptional here 
as black men are in one of our Northern towns, and, at 
first glance, it looks oddly enough to find black men 



Hayti 317 

not only the labourers, but officers in uniform, well-dressed 
gentlemen, men of business, and men of authority. All 
are talking French; all are busily employed, with a brisk- 
ness and a polite and easy air, that but for the prevailing 
sable hue, would lead one to imagine himself on the quays 
of a city in France. 

Through piles of logwood and heaps of coffee sacks we 
find our way to the Consulate, where we breakfast, and 
then sally forth to take a drive about the town. 

The streets are bad enough. They have once been 
paved, and since neglected, and are now more rough and 
uneven than if they had never been paved at all. The 
drainage is bad, and the sewerage insufficient, so that the 
streets rival some that are noted for such deficiences in 
New York and Washington; but, though dirty, they are 
dry at present, and hence tolerable. 

The style of architecture is peculiar. The best build- 
ings, on the principal streets, are of wooden framework 
filled in with brick between the timbers. The poorer class 
of houses are of wood throughout, and slate roofs are 
almost universal. Almost all buildings are of but one or 
two stories in height. The earthquakes have determined 
the character of the architecture. There are no brick 
or stone buildings of several stories, as with us, as the 
earthquakes would infallibly shake them down on the 
heads of the occupants. The wooden frame may not 
only shake, but even rock to and fro considerably, without 
serious damage. The safest material for all houses in such 
a climate is wood. Residents told me they remembered no 
case in which a wooden house was destroyed by earthquake, 
even when brick ones were tottering and tumbling into 
fragments. But, on the other hand, there is the danger 
of fire, which is not less frequent, and is even more destruc- 
tive. Hence, the compromise of wooden frame with brick 
filling. 



3i8 Hayti 

A large part of the city is just recovering from a calamity 
of this sort. An extensive fire, about ten months since, 
swept off a considerable portion of the business quarter 
of the town — a conflagration similar in extent to that 
which occurred about the same time in Richmond. But 
it is rapidly being rebuilt. Piles of lumber are strewn 
about; workmen are busy; and edifices in all stages of 
completion are rapidly progressing. 

The sidewalks of Port-au-Prince are private, not public 
property. Each house has a paved gallery or veranda 
on a level with the street, recessed under its second story, 
and open at front and ends. The owner sits here, ties 
his horse here, places his merchandise here, keeps his dogs 
and his parrots here, and may, if he chooses, fence it in and 
keep it entirely for his family use; and sometimes does so. 
But the general custom is to leave it open for the use of the 
foot passengers, who thus step from one house to another on 
a dry, well paved walk, sheltered from both sun and rain. 
Politeness and custom require, however, that one shall 
in passing touch his hat to the ladies, if he finds them 
on the gallery, when thus encroaching on their rights. 
So it is no unusual sight to see a gentleman regularly 
touching his hat at every house, as he walks along. 

Emerging from the burnt district, we come upon the 
market-place. It is a busy scene, filled with country 
people surrounded by the heaps of rural productions they 
have brought for sale, and the little donkeys that have 
brought them — a less vociferous scene than we have met at 
other similar places; the traffic appearing to go on with 
less flourish, but more rapidly and effectively. John, 
who has been sent ashore to do our marketing, comes back 
with astonishing tales of the magnitude of prices and of 
transactions. For two pairs of chickens he has paid 
$64 — that is, $16 for each fowl! He has expended simi- 
larly for vegetables, and the whole cost of our purchases 



Hayti 319 

in one day's marketing is $100. It is a mitigating circum- 
stance, however, that this is in Haytian paper currency, 
which is rather depreciated. He exchanged at the Con- 
sulate six gold dollars for |ioo of the Haytian paper, and 
this is what he has laid out. 

The principal conveyance, for business or pleasure, to 
be found in Port-au-Prince is the donkey. There are 
wagons and carts, and some good carriages and fine horses, 
but these are for city use merely. The roads up the hill- 
sides into the country are not passable for vehicles, though 
we were told that two hours of pleasant riding on horse- 
back would bring us to the heights, where we should have 
magnificent prospects, and a temperate instead of a tropi- 
cal climate. Up there the pine thrives, and apples, 
peaches, and other Northern products are easily raised. 

From the market we went to the cathedral, a large 
substantial wooden structure, handsomely decorated and 
furnished within. The pictures are numerous, and some 
of them very fine. They are generally the productions 
of French art, some old, but the majority of them of 
recent date. A mass for the dead was being celebrated 
when we entered. There were not many worshippers — 
few besides the priests and relatives of the deceased, 
who was probably of some wealthy family. When they 
came out, they seemed, in dress, manners, and carriage — 
in all respects save in complexion — just such persons as 
one might expect to meet coming out of a church in Fifth 
Avenue. 

There is one noticeable peculiarity in the style of dress 
seen in the streets of Port-au-Prince. The proverbial 
African taste for bright colours and gorgeous flowers and 
patterns seems here to have been entirely laid aside. In- 
stead of brilliant colours, modest, neutral tints and tones 
seem to be in vogue. In our drive through the streets we 
did not see one man in any exaggerated style of costume. 



320 Hayti 

though many dressed like quiet, respectable gentlemen. We 
did not see even one woman with the bright Madras hand- 
kerchief around her head, elsewhere so common. Black, 
white, grey, purple, and the intermediate tints in delicate 
material, either plain, or in small checks and modest 
patterns, were almost universal. The same thing was 
noticeable in the goods displayed in the shop windows. 
Altogether, the taste displayed in these points was in 
strong contrast to many things to be seen on Broadway or 
Pennsylvania Avenue. Whether it is due to French 
example and education, or whether the African puts 
aside barbaric tastes on coming from slavery into the 
higher condition of civilized, free citizenship, may be a 
question. 

There is an exception, however. The military and 
official uniforms are brilliant in contrasts of colour, and 
replete with gold lace and ornaments. Yet, perhaps, even 
these are only imitations of the style that prevailed in 
Europe and in our own country fifty years ago, now 
moderated and toned down. 

Around the environs of the city, the hills seemed cov- 
ered with rich vegetation to the very summit. My com- 
panion deprecatingly remarked that, at this season, the 
leaves were much more off the trees than at any other; 
and consequently the landscape was less attractive than 
usual. I told him there was even now, in midwinter, 
foliage more luxuriant than we have in summer. The 
hillsides are in forest — on the lower portion the mahogany, 
the satinwood, lignum-vitse, and other less valuable trop- 
ical trees are found ; above are oaks and Northern pines. 

While we were at breakfast, two aides-de-camp of 
President Geffrard were announced. They were hand- 
some young men of light complexion, and attired in a 
brilliant uniform of sky-blue coat and crimson pantaloons, 
with an abundance of gold lace. They were evidently 



Hayti 321 

well-bred gentlemen, of French education, though speaking 
English fluently. They came to invite us to the Presi- 
dent's palace, and to tender his carriage to convey us 
there. The carriage was a barouche, attended by ser- 
vants in green and gold livery, and followed by a guard of 
dragoons. 

Arriving at the gate of the President's palace, we found 
the troops drawn up in Hne to give the military salute. 
There were several regiments, all in gay and brilHant 
uniforms, all neat and soldier-like. Some of their costumes 
were like those of the French chasseurs and tirailleurs; 
others resembled those of our regular troops, though more 
elaborate and costly. The military bands struck up airs 
of welcome, among them the Star Spangled Banner, and 
we were ushered through a veranda to the drawing-room. 

Here was President Geffrard, a fine-looking, erect, very 
dark complexioned man, with grey hair, courteous address, 
and pleasing expression. He was dressed in a uniform 
somewhat resembling that of our Generals, though more 
richly ornamented. He received the Secretary of State 
with warm and gracefully expressed compliments, and 
conversed in French very fully and fluently upon the 
condition of affairs in Hayti and in the United States. 

The President was attended by several of his Ministers 
and Secretaries. Mr. Elie, the Minister of Foreign 
Affairs, a very intelligent, well-informed gentleman, and 
apparently a statesman of enlarged views, had come to call 
at the Consulate with General Roumain, whom we had 
known as Charge d' Affaires at Washington, and they 
accompanied us to the President's. Both were in civilian's 
dress, and both were of such light complexion that they 
might pass easily for white men. The Ministers of War 
and the Navy, on the other hand, were entirely African 
in hue, and were both in uniform. In manner and con- 
versation they were just such polished, educated, and ex- 



322 Hayti 

perienced public men as one would expect to find in like 
positions in any European Court. 

Madame Geffrard and her two daughters now entered 
the room, and received and entertained their guests. 
They are ladies of refinement and education, — the mother 
is very nearly white, the daughters a shade or two darker. 
All were dressed in accordance with the Parisian taste and 
fashion, and all spoke French only. 

The drawing-room was quite as richly and tastefully 
furnished as the Blue Room at Washington, though of less 
architectural pretensions. All the decorations of the 
house were rich and costly, but in good taste. Among 
the pictures was one of Mr. Lincoln ; among the busts one 
of Washington and another of John Brown. 

After a kind and hospitable reception we took our 
departure, receiving the same military honours as on 
entering. 

On our return, we stopped to look at the two Houses — 
that of the Senate and that of the Representatives. 
Neither House is at present in session. The rooms are 
not large, as the two bodies themselves are not, but 
resemble the legislative chambers of one of our States. 
Here were portraits of several of the Presidents of Hayti, 
one or two historical and allegorical paintings by French 
artists, and another likeness of John Brown, and one of 
Wilberforce. 

They pointed out to us the portraits of Presidents 
Boyer, Petion, Riviere, and others. 

"But there is one portrait that I do not see which I 
should have expected to find most prominent of all!" 

"Whose is that?" said our companion. 

"Toussaint L'Ouverture. " 

"Toussaint L'Ouverture! There is no portrait of him, 
here. He was a brave man, but we do not consider him a 
Republican." 



Hayti 323 

A fresh illustration that "A prophet is not without 
honour, save in his own country"! 

When we arrived at the Consulate we found there the 
foreign diplomatic and consular representatives at the 
Haytian capital, among them the British, French, and 
Spanish. Several American merchants and their families 
also called. 

Our friends accompanied us to the wharf, taking leave 
of us with many expressions of kindness, and sending on 
board for us various choice specimens of Haytian pro- 
ductions. Arrived on board, we found the Galatea just 
preparing to fire a salute of fifteen guns, in honour of the 
American Secretary. 

Hayti, so far as we have seen it, is neither the great 
success in solving the African problem which philanthro- 
pists would willingly believe it, nor on the other hand is it 
the failure in that respect which it is so often represented. 

Its people do not achieve those agricultural results which 
might be expected on a soil of such unsurpassed fertility ; 
and in manufactures they achieve almost nothing. The 
sugar mills erected by the French are fast going to ruin, 
and the inhabitants do not seem inclined to erect new 
ones, nor to use them. So in many other branches of in- 
dustry for which the island seems peculiarly adapted. 

On the other hand, it cannot be said that emancipation 
and self-government have rendered them idle or degraded. 
Everything about Port-au-Prince wears an air of activity. 
The people are busy, steady, enterprising. Everybody 
appears to have his work, and to be at it. Nobody 
appears to be lounging or lazy. There is nothing of that 
noisy talking, laughing, and shouting which characterize 
the unemployed negro in so many other places; but the 
sound of the hammer and the saw, the noise of busy work- 
men and businesslike men. 

It is true, that the general impression made upon a 



324 Hayti 

stranger is that of poverty. It is partly so, because the 
buildings are low and cheap and the streets neglected. 
It is partly so, because the idea of black people anywhere 
is habitually associated in our mmds with the idea of 
poverty. It is partly so — principally so — because these 
people, though free and industrious, lack capital, lack 
organized labor or enterprise, lack education and experi- 
ence, and lack that confidence in the stability, peace, and 
permanence of their own government which is essential 
to the prosperity of any country. 

But the true test by which to measure the Haytians is 
not to compare their present condition with that of their 
former white masters, or with that of white nations older 
and more advantageously situated — but to compare 
their own condition now, with what it was when they were 
slaves. There can be no doubt that a vast stride in ad- 
vance has been made by them, when viewed in that light. 
It is reasonable to suppose that this progress will continue, 
especially when aided by the free schools they are now 
establishing, and when strengthened by permanent and 
tranquil government, instead of revolutionary plots and 
outbreaks — if that time shall ever arrive. 

There is a natural, perhaps a necessary, dread of a 
recurrence of the white domination, which has inflicted 
such calamities on their country and their race. But 
among its effects are the exclusion of capital, invention, 
and skill, which might develop resources now neglected. 
Captain Cutts, an American merchant, who has lived 
fourteen years in the island, is now endeavouring to make 
an experiment in sugar manufacture, which hitherto has 
always resulted in failure. White meai are not permitted 
to own land; and when, heretofore, they have occupied it 
by lease or mortgage, and engaged in sugar making, the 
neighbours have, by violence, compelled them to desist, 
and sometimes destroyed their property. 



Hayti 325 

There is a similar, though less bitter, prejudice against 
mulattoes, and against the neighbouring Republic of 
Dominica, which is supposed to be altogether too near 
white not to share in white avarice, cupidity, or ambition. 

As our vessel was just getting under way, a coloured 
man, in a small boat, rowed by a boy, approached the 
stern; and the man climbed up a rope ladder suspended 
there. He had a pitiful story to tell. He was formerly 
from Auburn, and was induced to emigrate to Hayti, as 
the land of promise for his race ; found himself unsuccessful 
in his farming enterprise, and unable to employ his abili- 
ties with profit in anything else, the inhabitants treating 
him as a foreigner, who could not speak their language, 
and looking suspiciously upon him as an American. Now, 
his family was sick, and his funds exhausted, and he 
wanted to go home. Meanwhile the boy who had brought 
him, becoming alarmed lest his boat should be drawn 
under the paddle-wheels, was lustily pulling away for the 
shore, and deaf to all calls to come back. The American 
emigrant took this very philosophically, however, per- 
haps with a lurking hope of a free passage to the United 
States, in consequence of his inability to go ashore. Fortu- 
nately, however, another boat from the town was not far 
distant, and on being hailed, came alongside to take him 
off to the land of his adoption, though no longer the land 
of his choice. 

Bay of Gonaives, Jan. 18. 
We have been steaming, with a clear sky and tranquil 
sea, down the Bay of Gonaives, again admiring its pic- 
turesque mountain scenery, and now we have entered the 
Windward Passage, and descry in the distance the dim 
outline of the shores of Cuba. We passed Cape Maysi 
at four o'clock, and are heading for the channel between 
Cuba and the Bahamas. 



326 Hayti 

We are leaving behind us an island whose magnificent 
natural advantages are not surpassed in the world, yet left 
to imperfect and neglected cultivation, its fields not half 
improved, its cities belonging to the past rather than the 
present. 

President GefTrard is wisely seeking to encourage immi- 
gration. It has been imagined that Hayti, with its fertile 
soil, healthful climate, and cheap lands, so easily accessible, 
inhabited and controlled by the African race, would be the 
chosen spot for the regeneration of that race, and the 
development of its capacity for high civilization and self- 
government — that it would be sought by Africans, coming 
from all lands where they have been oppressed and 
degraded, to the one country where they are entitled to all 
rights and privileges, where all the avenues to wealth 
and public employment are open to them, and closed 
against everyone else. 

Yet the fact undeniably is, that the "coming African" 
does not come, but prefers to remain with the whites, in 
the land of his birth. 

The two republics, on the same island, with the same 
soil, and similar productions, with similar advantages for 
agriculture, mining, manufactures, and trade, are, never- 
theless, in strong contrast with each other. The one 
speaks French; the other Spanish. The one derives its 
fashions and ideas from Paris; the other from Madrid. 
The one copies the codes of French republics and empires ; 
the other models its laws and constitution after those of 
the United States. The one will have none but a black 
executive; the other prefers a white. The one jealously 
excludes white men from office, voting, or ownership of 
real estate; the other encourages their immigration and 
citizenship. The one adopts our rule that whoever has 
any African blood is a black man ; the other takes the con- 
verse rule that whoever has any European blood is a 



Hayti 327 

"bianco." In one, you see hundreds who appear of 
unmixed African parentage; in the other, you find every 
shade except pure black. One has the ambition to main- 
tain the right and demonstrate the capability of the African 
race to govern themselves, without interference. The 
other aims to be a white republic, and is becoming one. 
It is not strange, perhaps, that the two should be almost 
continually in hostilities, especially as they have an 
unsettled boundary line between them, and each has a 
sort of traditional claim to ownership of the island. 

In this island of San Domingo, with two of the finest 
harbours in the world, they use instead two of the inferior 
ones. At the Dominican end the principal port is the 
mouth of the Ozama, whose bar keeps out all but small 
vessels. At the Haytian end, Port-au-Prince is at the 
bottom of a long cul-de-sac, safe enough, but difficult to 
fortify; easy to blockade and impossible to escape from. 

On the other hand, the Dominicans have, and do not 
use, at Samana, a safe and commodious harbour for whole 
navies, easy of defence, advantageously situated in the line 
of mercantile traffic, commanding the Mona Passage — 
a harbour so well situated that the French used it as their 
base when they came to reconquer the island in 1802, and 
the United States themselves long ago saw in it a valuable 
point for naval operations. General McClellan and Ad- 
miral Porter have both been sent out to examine it with 
a view to its purchase, and at one time treaty negotiations 
for it through Mr. Cazneau were nearly accomplished. 
Our supposed desire for it was one of the reasons, or pre- 
texts, for the recent Spanish seizure and occupation of 
San Domingo. 

The Haytians, again, have at St. Nicholas Mole a port 
hardly inferior, which could be made impregnable, and 
which, with Cape Maysi, overlooks another important 
line of mercantile transit. 



328 At Havana 

What is there that this island will not produce? Its 
dense forests furnish mahogany, logwood, fustic, satin- 
wood, lignum-vitae, pine, oak, and various other woods 
used in the arts. Its fields yield, with easy cultivation, 
com, millet, and every kind of grain, besides the trop- 
ical staples of sugar, cotton, indigo, coffee, cacao, rice, 
and tobacco. On its hills you can raise the plums, peaches, 
pears, melons, and grapes of the north, while on the lower 
levels, fruits and vegetables, enough to feed its entire 
population, seem to grow almost spontaneously — oranges, 
lemons, limes, pineapples, aguacates, sapodillas, cheri- 
moyas, guavas, bananas, plantains, yams, batatas, and 
a host of others. 

Animal life is abundant. Not only wild game, but 
the cattle, hogs, and waterfowl, which we raise with such 
cost and care, here increase and multiply and roam 
wild, without any care at all. Fish, turtles, lobsters, 
crabs, caymans, and alligators abound in its waters. 
Insects swarm in myriads. 

Equally rich in minerals, it has gold, silver, platinum, 
quicksilver, copper, iron, tin, manganese, sulphur, anti- 
mony, marble, jasper and various precious stones, rock 
salt, and mineral springs. 

Its wealth has been its curse, for it has attracted 
adventurers to devastate and impoverish it ; and yet they 
have but half succeeded, though it has suffered nearly four 
hundred years of war, and hardly had a dozen of peace. 

Havana, Jan. 20, 1866. 
At Havana. The coast of Cuba this morning is clear 
and well defined. As we go on towards Havana, we gradu- 
ally draw nearer to the shore, so that we see the palm 
trees, the cane fields, the fishing hamlets and boats, and 
occasionally, here and there, an inhabitant standing on the 
beach and gazing towards our steamer. 



At Havana 329 

At noon we are in sight of the harbour of Havana, a 
beautiful picture, as it gradually opens before us around 
the projecting bluff on which stands the Morro Castle. 
Grey, rough, and picturesque, its stone walls frown down 
upon the channel, which runs just below them. Along 
the crest of the hill, additional fortifications bristle, giving 
the town the look of impregnability, on that side, at least. 

We stop a few minutes off the Morro Castle to take a 
pilot ; and then steam slowly up the harbour to our place 
of anchorage. 

The harbour is a busy scene — ships at the wharves, 
ships at anchor under flags of all nations, among them 
several fine Spanish men-of-war, with the red and yellow 
ensign flying, steamers passing in and out, and ferryboats 
crossing to and fro among them — the whole much re- 
sembling Philadelphia, as the entrance to the harbour is 
hardly wider than the Delaware. The town itself has a 
thoroughly Spanish air, and few of the edifices are new, 
yet its general aspect, by contrast with our recent view 
of the antique Spanish town of San Domingo, seems fresh, 
new, and cheerful. The large open windows and doors, the 
verandas and balconies, the light tints of buff, green, blue, 
and white, which everywhere prevail, give Havana a far 
more attractive look from the sea than any of our north- 
ern cities have. Near the wharf we see an American 
flag welcoming us from the American Consulate. 

We come to anchor near the Spanish men-of-war, and 
exchange the customary salute with the fort. Presently 
the American Consul-General, Mr. Minor, pulls alongside 
and comes aboard, bringing with him the acceptable 
gift of letters from home, and New York papers of the 
13th, a fortnight later than any we had before. 

All well at home. So, much relieved in heart, we take 
a hasty dinner; and, with the aid of the Consul-General, 
plan our disembarkation and sojourn in Havana. 



330 At Havana 

Under his advice we arc soon ashore, and comfortably 
installed in the Hotel de Almy, which is much frequented 
by loyal Americans. It is a large, quaint, old-fashioned 
building, which was, in its early days, a Spanish govern- 
ment palace. It is of heavy masonry, with antique orna- 
mentation. Stone balconies project from its windows 
and a courtyard occupies the centre, into which the hall 
and dining-room open, by arcades, without the interven- 
tion of either door or window. 

Mrs. Almy, the proprietress, assigns us our rooms; and 
we sally out to improve what is left of daylight by a drive 
through the town. 

Near the tavern is the old church of San Domingo, 
blackened and dilapidated by time and war, and now used 
as the Custom House. Proceeding up the streets, the first 
impression they make upon our unaccustomed eyes is 
that they are extremely narrow. The side walks are 
only wide enough to accommodate a single foot passenger. 
The carriageway is just wide enough for two vehicles 
to pass, and nothing more. In consequence, carriages 
are allowed to proceed only in one direction. Each 
alternate street is set apart, either for going up, or for going 
down; and a vehicle desiring to go to a spot only a few 
paces distant through the street is frequently obliged 
to go around the entire block in order to reach it. To 
warn drivers, there is painted on nearly every corner a 
black hand pointing in the allowable direction, with the 
word suhida (up), or bajada (down). Consequently there 
is no confusion. The streets are well paved with smooth, 
square stones, and are kept tolerably clean. They are 
dry, and, from their narrowness, are almost always shady; 
so that one can comfortably walk anywhere, without 
being restricted to the sidewalk. 

Spanish architecture is massive and imposing. The 
walls are thick, the ceilings high. The windows of an 



At Havana 331 

ordinary dwelling are as large as those of one of our 
churches ; and the doorway is like the massive portal of one 
of our public edifices. A single story, or at most two, 
is the prevailing custom. 

As we go up the town, we pass the Custom House, the 
Palace, the Cathedral, and other fine edifices, with two 
or three small but neatly kept open plazas, ornamented 
with plants and fountains, and sometimes with statuary. 
A broad archway like a tunnel leads through the wall which 
encircles what was once the city of Havana, but is now a 
small portion of it. 

Emerging from this, we find ourselves in broader streets 
and more open places, among them the Plaza de Armas, 
near the Tacon Theatre; and farther on we come to the 
"Paseo, " which is the fashionable drive. It is a long, 
straight avenue, admirably paved and lighted, broad 
and attractive. We drive as far up as the gateway of the 
Captain-General's country house. 

They are lighting the lamps as we return; and now 
Havana is in its glory. Everybody seems to have no 
other object than amusement, out doors and in, on this 
charming tropical evening. The houses are all lighted; 
the parlour windows, wide open, extend down to the 
ground, with which the floor is on a level ; and the groups 
of ladies and gentlemen, children, and servants within, 
are fully exposed to view, as if out in the street. Some 
are chatting and laughing, rocking to and fro in the com- 
fortable American chairs, of which every room has several ; 
some are fanning, some smoking, some are playing musi- 
cal instruments, some dancing; nearly all are dressed for 
receiving or making visits. An iron grating is interposed 
to keep off intruders, giving somewhat the aspect of cages 
of pretty birds. 

Any such one group in New York would attract a crowd 
of curious gazers. Here, one sees such groups in every 



332 At Havana 

house; and no one seems to care to look. Crowds of 
well-dressed people saunter up and down the streets, the 
ladies fanning and the gentlemen smoking, and the car- 
riageway is full of showy equipages, well-mounted cabal- 
leros, and the funny-looking Spanish volantes, in which 
the horse and driver seem to be an affair entirely inde- 
pendent of the ladies, who are sitting at ease in the distant 
two-wheeled open vehicle. One can readily understand, 
when witnessing this scene, how it is that Cubans who 
visit New York find even Fifth Avenue gloomy and sombre. 

The shops, though not large, show to the best advantage 
and make more display than is practicable in establish- 
ments ten times larger. Ours are deep and narrow, while 
these are broad and open, brilliantly illuminated; every- 
thing in them is exposed to full view. Over the doorway is 
a sign containing the name which is the peculiar desig- 
nation of the shop — for each shop here has a name, some- 
times appropriate, sometimes fanciful. Thus we find 
"La Flora," "La Perla," "La Diana," "La Honrodez," 
"El Telescopio, " etc., which, for the customers, is some- 
times more convenient of remembrance than our system 
of numbers and names of firms. Numbers are difficult 
to recollect, and firms are perpetually changing, but the 
names here may endure for a century. 

Returning home, we find various visitors. Our house 
is an especial American resort. We meet several who are 
engaged in business in Havana, and some travellers who 
have come by the last steamer. 

Havana, Jan. 21st. 
This morning, after breakfast, the Captain-General, 
with his secretar}^ and aides-de-camp, came to call upon 
the Secretary of State, to offer him many kind hospitali- 
ties and to proffer a country-seat for his use during 
his stay. General Dulce is a small, spare man, with 



At Havana 333 

pleasing face and features expressive of energetic char- 
acter. He speaks only Spanish, but Havana is polyglot, 
and there is no lack of interpreters. 

Shopping was the next enterprise, and various curiosi- 
ties of tropical production, use or wear, were the pur- 
chases. 

Our next visit was to the Cathedral, a majestic edi- 
fice, singularly free from the tawdry ornamentation, 
architectural or ceremonial, which so often disfigures 
buildings of this character. Its vaulted ceilings are 
adorned with frescoes, and its several chapels with fine 
paintings. The remains of Columbus are buried here 
under the sacristy, and are surmounted by a marble bust 
and tablet. The Cathedral will hold several thousand 
worshippers. 

In the afternoon we took a drive through the suburbs. 
The country residences are numerous, and are of the 
same general style of architecture as the city houses, except 
for the addition of broad paved verandas. Well-kept 
gardens, luxuriant in tropical plants and flowers, and 
ornamented with vases and statuary, are attached to 
many of them. 

Past the suburbs, we find cultivated fields, in various 
stages, for in this favouring climate one sees fields just 
planted side by side with others ready for the harvest. 
Vegetables and fruits for the city markets occupy many of 
them. Farther on we come upon cane and tobacco fields, 
with a plentiful sprinkling of palms and cocoanut trees, 
giving the landscape much the same general air as that we 
had seen at Santa Cruz. 

Everybody, at this season, is eating sugar. The 
children are sucking bits of the cane. The grown people 
are feasting on its various forms at table. The soldiers 
are served with rations of sugar-cane, chopped off into 
suitable length and served out by the commissary. The 



334 At Havana 

donkey rider carries a long cane in his hand and sucks one 
end while he whips the donkey with the other. The 
cattle and horses fatten on the refuse of the sugar house, 
and the dogs lick up the syrup that is trickling plentifully 
on the ground. There is one exception to the general 
rule, however. The planter's family, who have become 
too familiar with the processes of sugar-making, do not 
care to eat it until it comes back, next year, white and 
refined, from New York. 

Here and there, among the labourers in the cane-fields, 
we notice the unmistakable faces of Chinese coolies. 
Their short, spare, lithe, active figures are usually in 
motion; and they seem not to have the fondness for 
lounging in the sun which the African has. Some of 
the landowners whom we have met say that they prefer 
them, as being more industrious and requiring less watch- 
ing. They are brought here across the Pacific and the 
Isthmus. How far their emigration is voluntary is, in 
most cases, a matter of doubt. The landed proprietor 
here makes his bargain with the agent of a company 
which undertakes to deliver so many Chinamen to him 
as apprentices for a certain number of years (usually 
eight). They are to be fed, clothed, and to receive so 
many dollars per month ; and then to be discharged at the 
close of their term of apprenticeship. Usually, they 
are willing and docile, though comprehending but little of 
the language of their employers. 

Some certainly are voluntary emigrants from Canton 
who know the nature of the apprenticeship before them. 
But it often happens that others, when they have picked 
up some knowledge of the language, tell of the knavish 
pretences or threats by which they were induced to leave 
their homes and go on board a vessel bound they knew not 
whither. Sometimes one of the poor creatures, in utter 
despair, commits suicide. We were told of one planter 



At Havana 335 

who, one morning, found seven of his newly indentured 
apprentices hanging on the trees of his orchard. There 
are provisions of law to prevent and remedy these wrongs, 
but it is difficult to enforce them; especially when the 
injured party cannot explain his grievance, or when the 
employer is a man who, so long as he gets labourers, does 
not trouble himself to inquire how fairly or unfairly they 
may have been dealt with. 

It is said, and there seems no good reason to doubt the 
statement, that such cases of cruelty and injustice are 
rare in the islands where labour is free; and that they 
are most frequent in the slaveholding islands, where 
popular sensibilities on the subject of justice to Asiatics 
are naturally somewhat blunted by what they see meted 
out to Africans. 

Here, as elsewhere, the Chinese immigrant comes to 
make money, in the hope of some day returning to his 
own country to spend it. But there are some who, at the 
end of their apprenticeship, seem to prefer to remain. 
Such a one, who has deliberately taken up his residence 
for life, is a changed being. He is Europeanized. He 
has dropped his Chinese tunic, wears the dress of Euro- 
peans, and has lost his pigtail. He talks Spanish or Eng- 
lish. He has been baptized, and is no longer a "heathen 
Chinee." His walk, manners, and gestures all seem to 
have been "translated." 

An expression of keen astuteness has crept into his face, 
instead of the vacuous, childish smile that once reigned 
there. His very eyes seem to have lost their almond shape ; 
and he smokes, chews, drinks, and swears "like a Chris- 
tian." But though he may sometimes acquire Christian 
vices, he fortunately does not lose his heathen virtues. It 
is said there is no case where he becomes idle, improvident, 
or a pauper. He is frugal, industrious, thrifty, and if he 
keeps his health, and lives long enough, is sure to end by 



336 At Havana 

being rich. Some highly respectable and well-to-do 
merchants of this class have been pointed out to us. 

Even so near as this to Havana there is some unculti- 
vated land. Cuba, though of unsurpassed fertility, has 
never yet fully developed her agricultural resources. 

Our ride took us as far as Marinao, a fishing hamlet 
on the seashore, about ten miles from the city; and we 
returned in time to witness again the gay scene presented 
in the Havana streets by gaslight. 

After dinner, the American residents at Havana, and 
with them many of their Cuban acquaintances, called 
to pay their respects to the Secretary of State, with 
many gratifying expressions of cordiality and friendship. 
Each was introduced and shook hands, leaving his card in 
remembrance of his visit. 

Havana, Jan. 226.. 

Another walk before breakfast this morning, in which 
we neither lost our way nor failed to expend our money, 
quite encouraged us in the belief that we were becoming 
familiar with the localities, the language, and the coins 
of Havana. 

We are told there is a "norther" blowing outside. It 
must be a very mild one; for it seems to us that there is 
no more air than is at least desirable on a warm day. Yet 
our friends here, as in other West Indian Islands, speak 
of the night as chilly, the thermometer having gone down 
to seventy- two degrees; and refer to overcoats, blankets, 
etc., as if such things were positive discomforts. 

On our walk we were twice stopped by men with their 
hands full of printed and numbered sheets of paper, which 
they proposed to sell to us, as muy bonitos and muy 
buenos. These were lottery tickets. Everybody prob- 
ably does not buy lottery tickets in Havana, but from 
the talk one hears of them, it seems as if everybody did. 



At Havana 337 

The lotteries are under the authority of the government, 
to which they yield a handsome revenue. The numbers 
of the tickets that draw prizes are conspicuously chalked 
up on a blackboard at the " Intendencia, " and the papers 
which contain them are always sought for by an eager 
crowd. For five dollars you get a very slim chance of 
drawing two hundred thousand dollars, and the hope 
that this very slim chance or some smaller one may be 
realized induces many to invest in it every five dollars 
they can get. 

After breakfast we went to see a manufactory of cigar- 
ettes — a marvel of ingenuity and enterprise which would 
do credit to Yankee invention. Everything that science 
or art has devised applicable to such a purpose seemed 
to be found in Susini's establishment. He had a machine 
to make the paper, a machine to cut it, machines to grind 
the tobacco, and to press it, others to make the boxes, to 
make the barrels, to print the labels, to engrave the 
pictures, and to number the packages; besides many 
various modern inventions that incidentally help the work 
— fire annihilators, electric lights, electrotypes, copying 
apparatus, steam elevators, printing-presses, etc. Only 
the work of rolling up the cigarettes is done by hand, 
and this is done by Chinese coolies, who do it with great 
dexterity and rapidity. We were told that they work so 
industriously that many of them, after doing their daily 
tasks, work in the evening on their own account, and make 
twenty, thirty, or even forty dollars a month. The coolies 
are fed and lodged by the establishment, and they fare in 
both respects better than either our soldiers or our sailors. 

The superintendent called up a short, swarthy, intelli- 
gent-looking Chinaman, to show us an illustration of the 
thrifty economy of his race. He has been eight years in 
Cuba, on the meagre pittance of eight dollars a month 
for working ten hours a day. Yet, by working extra 



338 At Havana 

hours, and saving up and judiciously investing his wages, 
he has become worth five thousand dollars and is going 
back to China next month with that fortune — in that 
country an ample one. He appreciated the wealth he had 
gained, and shook his head, smiling, when asked if he 
would not consent to stay eight years more to get another 
five thousand dollars. 

Then another Chinaman was called up, equally remark- 
able, though in a different way. He had so carefully 
combed and nurtured his pigtail that, when uncoiled, it 
reached to his feet, and touched the floor as he walked. 
He grinned with becoming pride at the compliments 
lavished on this personal ornament. 

"What will you sell it for, John?" inquired one of the 
bystanders. "I will give you five dollars." 

John grinned, and shook his head. 

' ' Twenty dollars ? A hundred dollars ? ' * 

John still returned a scornful negative. 

"See here, John, you don't think your tail is worth as 
much as the fortune this other man has saved up, do you ? 
Will you take five thousand dollars for it?" 

John, gathering up his highly prized ornament into 
a knot and carefully readjusting it at the back of his head, 
laconically replied, "Me no takee, " and walked off with it 
out of the tempter's reach. 

Many ingenious devices in the advertising way are 
resorted to to give the cigarettes a reputation. Some are 
put up in packages which give the purchaser a handsome 
coloured lithographic picture ; others in packages of which 
one in twenty will have a lottery ticket enclosed; others 
are made in imitation of cigars; others put up in mimic 
champagne bottles, wheels of fortune, etc. A newspaper 
devoted to their description is published monthly. 

Next we went to the palace of the Captain-General to 
return his visit. The Spanish soldiers on guard at the 



At Havana 339 

entrance were neatly dressed in white, appropriately to 
the climate. The Captain-General received us hospitably, 
proffered us the invariable Havana welcome of a cigar, and 
arranged for a dinner and a visit to the theatre with him 
in the evening. 

Thence to the Hotel de Angleterra, facing on the Plaza. 
Here were cigars, a lunch, wines, and "dulces, " Here 
we found General Andrew Porter, formerly Provost 
Marshal-General at Washington, who is spending the 
winter with his family in Havana. 

Then we went to an extensive cigar manufactory, that 
of Partagas & Son, and saw the process of preparing the 
tobacco, cutting and rolling it up into cigars. Three 
hundred workmen were busily engaged here, turning 
out cigars with marvellous rapidity. They sit in long rows 
at each end of a long table, each with two piles of tobacco 
leaves before him, one for the filling, the other for the 
wrappers. One noticeable feature was a man sitting 
in an elevated seat at one side, and reading in a loud 
voice from a Spanish novel. This is to amuse the work- 
men, or, rather, to keep them from talking with each 
other and so losing time at their work. Conversation 
would distract their attention, but reading, while it di- 
verts them, does not interfere with the mechanical labour. 
We were taken through vast storerooms, in which bales 
of tobacco and boxes of cigars were piled, and cigars in 
various packages were very lavishly and hospitably pre- 
sented to us on leaving. 

In the evening we went to dinner at the Captain-Gen- 
eral's Palace. It was a brilliant assemblage of about 
fifty guests, many of them officers of the government, the 
army, or the navy. The dinner was like other state 
dinners, with profuse and elaborate dishes and deco- 
rations; and all its details went off like clockwork and 
with more rapidity than is common in Washington. 



340 At Havana 

A band discoursed music in the anteroom during the 
dinner. The Captain-General had the Secretary of 
State on his right hand and Mr. Kennedy on his left. 
Most of the company were either officers of the Cuban 
government, representatives of foreign governments, or 
prominent Cubans. 

Toward the close of the dinner, the Captain-General 
rose to propose the health of the President of the United 
States, and that of the Secretary of State and his family, 
with appropriate complimentary remarks, which were 
responded to by Mr, Seward. The Vice-Admiral then 
rose to propose the health of the other American guests, 
and of the American navy, which was responded to by 
Mr. Kennedy (ex-Secretary of the Navy) and Captain 
Walker. 

After dinner, coffee and cigars; and then the Captain- 
General took us in his carriage to the Tacon Theatre. 
Military guards surrounded the carriage, but were hardly 
able to keep back the crowd collected both at the door 
of the Palace and that of the theatre, eager to see. In the 
theatre, we found the ladies in the Captain-General's box. 
The building is a very fine one, of magnificent proportions, 
yet very simple in design and in quiet good taste, without 
the gaudy decoration that is so common in theatrical 
edifices. 

The parterre was occupied solely by gentlemen and 
fitted up with armchairs; the boxes, of which there were 
three tiers, were filled with elegantly dressed people, 
occasionally visiting and receiving each other in their 
respective palcos. Above, there was the gallery, devoted 
to the general public ; and above that another for coloured 
people. The whole edifice was brilliantly lighted. The 
Ravels were performing a pantomime. 

We returned to the hotel at about eleven, accompanied 
by the Captain-General and his staff, who took leave of 



At Havana 341 

us, but not before saying that his Artillery Band would give 
us a serenade before retiring. 

Meanwhile the halls and passages began to fill up 
with well-dressed young men. They proved to be the 
students of the University, who had come to pay their 
respects in a body to the Secretary of State. They 
were introduced one by one, each leaving his card. Many 
of them expressed some sentiment of warm admiration, 
either for him personally or for the principles and policy 
of the United States Government — expressions marked 
with deep feeling and earnestness. Those who could not 
speak English would often write them on their cards. 

With the students came also some of the professors 
and other residents of the city, American or Spanish. 

The Artillery Band, consisting of some sixty performers, 
was meanwhile drawn up in a hollow square in front of the 
hotel, with their lights and music stands; and we proceeded 
to the balconies to hear the serenade. It lasted for an 
hour or more, and we then retired for our last night in 
Cuba. 

Now that the serenade is over, one of our Havana friends 
tells us an amusing bit of gossip about its history — which 
si non e vero e ben trovato. 

The story goes that the students, being nearly all native 
Cubans, are most of them ardent republicans, if not 
revolutionists. They thought they saw in Mr. Seward's 
visit a long-coveted opportunity for a republican demon- 
stration and speeches such as the Spanish government 
rigorously and vigilantly represses. They said to one 
another: "The government cannot refuse us permission to 
show hospitable courtesy toward Mr. Seward, the Secre- 
tary of State of the United States; and having once the 
right to open our mouths we can talk of liberty and 
republicanism, naturally suggested, as such topics are, 
by his whole history." So they sent a committee to the 



342 At Havana 

Captain-General, to ask the needed permission to give 
a serenade to Mr. Seward. General Dulce received and 
heard them very courteously, and replied : 

"Certainly, gentleman, by all means. You have my 
permission, of course. Mr. Seward is worthy of all the 
attention we can show him; and I am glad you are dis- 
posed to unite in doing honour to the great statesman." 

The committee, delighted with the unexpected success 
of their mission, were bowing their thanks and taking 
their leave when the Captain-General called them back. 

"You should have a good band, gentlemen, for such 
an occasion. And now I think of it, there is no band in 
Havana that is equal to my Brigade Band. I approve 
your project so highly that I will join in it myself. I 
will send my band to play for you." 

The discomfited committeemen looked at each other, 
but of course could not object to this generous offer. The 
result was that the Brigade Band, a magnificent one of 
sixty or seventy musicians, came, spread itself in a hollow 
square all over the street in front of the hotel, and played 
away, air after air, without intermission until one 
o'clock. 

The students, who had gathered on the hotel steps in 
hope of an opportunity for their demonstration, found no 
place nor time for speaking. They lingered till towards 
midnight, and then, dropping off one by one, gave it up 
in despair, and left the scene deserted. Mr. Seward, tak- 
ing mercy on the tired musicians, sent to the leader, with 
his thanks and compliments, a request that they would 
not fatigue themselves longer. So ended the meeting 
and the serenade. 

On the morning of the 23 d, the head of the De Soto 
was again turned towards the sea, and she was steaming 
slowly out past Morro Castle, homeward bound. Flags 
were waving from the Consulate and ships, and a crowd 




FREDERICK W. SEWARD 

As he looked in 1866, while Assistant Secretary of State 



A Year's Interval 343 

of friends, Spanish and American, were gathered on the 
wharf, to wave hats and handkerchiefs and shout their 
last adieus. 

A steamboat chartered by the students pushed off and 
accompanied the De Soto down the harbour, with farewell 
salutations. At the Castle they gave three parting cheers. 
The crew of the De Soto responded, as she passed out of 
the harbour and was again on the ocean. 

The homeward voyage was in pleasant contrast with 
our outward one. Sunny weather and quiet seas attended 
us all along the Florida coast, and even Hatteras offered no 
objection to our passing it. Wind, steam, and current 
all helped the De Soto as she made her sixteen knots to the 
hour, on even keel. 

But after the second day, the air around was no longer 
tropical. Overcoats and wraps were in demand on deck, 
and fires were started in the cabin stove. The mercury 
dropped to forty degrees, and in the distance the coast 
looked white. The midsummer poetry of the trip was 
gone, and now came stern winter reality. But the De 
Soto successfully avoided all gales on the Chesapeake, and 
the floating ice in the Potomac. 

At noon on the 28th the dome of the Capitol at Wash- 
ington was in sight, and before nightfall we were on land 
again, and driving back through Pennsylvania Avenue 
to our home. 

A Year's Interval. A year has passed since the fore- 
going journal of our West Indian cruise was written. The 
country has entered upon a new phase of its history. 
We are now at peace with all other nations, but at the 
beginning of high political strife among ourselves, over 
the problem of "reconstruction." 

In that strife, my father takes no part. He is assidu- 
ously endeavouring to build up the country's safety, 



344 A Diplomatic Visit to San Domingo 

commerce, and prosperity, by the establishment of naval 
outposts in the Caribbean Sea and elsewhere. 

The naval officers who have had experience give him 
hearty co-operation. But Congress is absorbed in its 
debates and the public is inattentive. Hence, it happens 
that I have now to write another chronicle of another 
West Indian voyage. This is devoted to official work. 
So it is entitled "A Diplomatic Visit to San Domingo. " 

A Diplomatic Visit to San Domingo. The flags that 
were floating over the north and south wings of the Capi- 
tol at Washington in the winter of i866-'67 might have 
been called storm signals, for they indicated a tempest 
going on below. Hot debates were raging in the Senate 
and the House. There was a Republican majority in 
Congress. Its members and President Andrew Johnson 
had both been chosen at the same election as represen- 
tatives of the same party; but they had drifted widely 
apart upon the "reconstruction policy" to be applied 
to ttie Southern States. Encouraged by indications of 
popular approval at the polls and in the press, that 
majority now found itself strong enough to defy his 
power, and pass measures over his veto. A resolution for 
his impeachment was passed, and a committee appointed 
to take the preparatory steps; but upon their report of 
"no sufficient grounds, " the project remained in abeyance. 
Various measures were introduced and passed for the 
avowed purpose of limiting his powers. The President, 
not at all intimidated by this formidable opposition, was 
as tenacious of his opinions as they were of theirs. He 
refused to sign bill after bill, returning it with his objec- 
tions. His veto, for the most part, was temperately 
expressed, but doomed to certain defeat. The Congress 
usually disposed of it summarily by a two thirds vote, 
without caring to listen to his reasons. 



A Diplomatic Visit to San Domingo 345 

The Secretary of State had been censured by many 
former friends for remaining in "Andy Johnson's Cabi- 
net." But he deemed it wise to stay at his post, and do 
what he could toward quelHng the storm, and managing 
the foreign relations of the country to its best advantage. 
As the questions with which he had to deal were diplo- 
matic ones, in the interest of the whole country and not 
of any section or party, he was measurably out of the 
angry debate. His personal friendships, in both the 
Administration and the Opposition, remained unchanged. 

One morning there was a buzz of excitement in the 
reporters' gallery and on the floor of the House of Repre- 
sentatives, occasioned by the sudden appearance of 
Secretary Seward, who calmly walked down the main 
aisle to the seat of Thaddeus Stevens, greeted him, 
and sat down for a chat. As Stevens was the especial 
leader of the opponents of the President, the evident 
cordiality between him and Seward was an enigma 
to both sides of the House. It grew more puzzling 
when Stevens went to dine and spend the evening with 
Seward. A day or two afterward he rose to propose 
an extra appropriation "for special service," to be 
expended under the direction of the Secretary of State. 
So strong and so implicitly trusted by his followers 
was Stevens that he had little difficulty in inducing them 
to vote for it, "though much they wondered why." 
The only information he vouchsafed to them was that 
it was for a secret diplomatic mission, of which they 
would be informed as soon as compatible with the public 
interests. 

Many years before Seward and Stevens had sat together 
as delegates in a National Convention. Though they had 
rarely met since that time, the whirl of politics had not 
estranged them. When Seward over his dinner table 
now unfolded his project, Stevens, putting aside all 



34^ A Diplomatic Visit to San Domingo 

partisan feeling, heartily agreed to co-operate in a meas- 
ure "with no politics in it, " and manifestly for the public 
good. The project was to acquire a harbour somewhere 
in the West Indies, where we had none. The need of one, 
for a naval and coaling station, had been sharply demon- 
strated by the events of the Civil War. 

Seward had already opened negotiations for the har- 
bour and island of St. Thomas. But it was yet uncertain 
whether Denmark would be willing to part with that 
possession, and whether the Senate would sanction a 
treaty for it. Meanwhile intimations had been received 
from San Domingo that an equally desirable harbour 
might be obtained by leasing or purchasing the bay of 
Samana. Cash payment would be welcome to the island 
republic, but if that was inconvenient, part payment 
might be made in arms, ships, and munitions of war, 
of which we then had a great surplus, after the close of 
our Civil War, that would otherwise be sold at auction. 

The next question was, who to send to make the treaty? 
The Dominican Republic had no minister at Washington, 
and we had none at San Domingo. Two officials already 
in the public service might be sent off in a naval vessel 
for a winter cruise without exciting as much attention 
and curiosity as would inevitably attend the creation of 
a new diplomatic post and the appointment of a minister. 
Accordingly I, being then Assistant Secretary of State, 
was duly commissioned as a plenipotentiary, to make 
a treaty, if one should be found desirable. My colleague 
was the very man for such a mission, David D. Porter, who 
was experienced in all naval matters, having served in all 
kinds of vessels, sailed in all seas, won fame and promotion 
in all wars, and was now Vice-Admiral of the navy. His 
keen observation and sound judgment would be invaluable 
in deciding upon all points of site, depth of water, facility 
of access, and capabilities for defence. The Navy Depart- 



A Diplomatic Visit to San Domingo 347 

ment had small vessels in plenty. Admiral Porter selected 
the Gettysburg, a converted blockade runner, low, sharp, 
and swift, and she was duly equipped, manned, and 
provisioned for the voyage. Accompanied by Mrs. 
Seward and my secretary, I went over to the Annapolis 
Naval Academy, where the Admiral had his quarters. 
We sent our luggage on board, and on a bright moonlight 
evening started on our voyage. 

At the very outset ill luck befell us. Through some 
variation of the tide, or some carelessness of the pilot, 
the Gettysburg ran aground before she was fairly out into 
Chesapeake Bay. Worst of all, she was so firmly stuck on 
an oyster bed that she could not be gotten off. ' ' She will 
float at high tide," we said. But she did not, and when 
we returned to Annapolis, three or four tugs were vainly 
puffing around her and trying to move her. 

The Admiral telegraphed for another ship. The Navy 
Department replied that he might "take the Don. " The 
Don was smaller than the Gettysburg, but was believed 
to be staunch and seaworthy. She was fitted with twin 
screw propellers, and had a great 100-pound Parrott gun 
mounted amidships on her deck. We transferred our 
provisions and belongings to the Don, where we were 
welcomed by Captain Chandler. Then we set off 
again. 

All went well down the bay and out through the Capes, 
and until a day later. Then a south-east gale caught us 
off Cape Hatteras. They called it a gale, but it seemed of 
the dimensions of a hurricane. At any rate, it was too 
much for the Don. She tried going through it, and 
running before it, and "lying to, " and neither suited. At 
midnight she was labouring in a heavy sea, with broken 
rudder, damaged boats and rigging, and miscellaneous 
wreckage on her deck. Finally the thing happened which 
Victor Hugo so vividly describes in his Ninety-Three. The 



34^ A Diplomatic Visit to San Domingo 

great gun broke loose, and, rolling about the deck with 
every movement of the vessel, seemed disposed to deal 
death and destruction to all on board. Sailors jumped 
for their lives to get out of the monster's way. It rammed 
the masts, smashed the long boat and deckhouse, and fi- 
nally stove a hole in the bulwarks and went overboard. 
That was a great relief. But more disaster was to come. 
As the vessel fell into the trough of the sea, the foremast 
snapped short off and fell on the deck. Captain Chandler's 
men sprang with axes to clear away the wreckage, but had 
difficulty in keeping their feet. In the cabin, trunks, tables 
chairs, stove, crockery, and lamps were thrown from side 
to side with appalling rapidity, and the only safety was in 
a berth. An officer came down to report to the Admiral 
about the useless rudder, the boats swept away, and the 
men with broken arms and legs. He added in a lower 
tone, "We only keep her head to the sea by using the twin 
engines. The engineer works them alternately as the 
officer on deck calls down to him. If one of them gives 
out, she cannot live till morning." "Well," cheerfully 
responded the Admiral, "perhaps they won't give out. 
Anyhow, we'll do the best we can." 

They did not give out; and toward morning the gale 
began to lessen and the sea to subside. The Don was 
headed northward toward Hampton Roads. On arriving 
there she presented a sorry appearance; dismasted, with- 
out boats or gun, with bulwarks knocked to pieces, — but 
fortunately not leaking. As we sat at our improvised 
breakfast on a locker, the Admiral said that during the 
night, while lying on the cabin floor with his clothes on, 
he heard a knocking and swishing about below, and 
thought he felt the floor move. He said to himself, 
"Now she has sprung a leak." Then he was relieved 
to see a trapdoor cautiously lifted and the heads of the 
black cook and another servant peering out. Having 



A Diplomatic Visit to San Domingo 349 

been asleep in the hold, they had been roused by the 
racket and were coming up to see what was the matter. 

"What did you think, Mrs. Seward, last night when you 
heard the ship was going to be wrecked?" 

"I thought perhaps we would get ashore in boats," she 
answered. 

"Ah, " replied he, "the boats were all washed away long 
before that." 

"Well, Admiral, " said I, "what did you expect?" 

"Oh, I thought I should get ashore somehow, but I was 
not at all sure any of you would. Well," he added, "I 
don't believe any of us expected to be sitting here and 
laughing and chatting over a breakfast this morning." 

Landing at Fortress Monroe, the Admiral reported 
our experiences to the Navy Department, and asked for 
another vessel. He received the laconic reply that we 
"seemed to be using up ships pretty fast," but that 
we might again take the Gettysburg, which by this time 
had gotten off the oyster bed without serious damage. 

The next day she arrived at Hampton Roads. We 
transferred ourselves to her, and were welcomed on board 
again by Captain Rowland and his officers. We started 
for the third time on our voyage, and this time all went 
smoothly. We passed out through the Capes, traversed 
the Gulf Stream, found fair weather and favouring winds 
between Hatteras and the "still vexed Bermoothes. " 
A day or two later we entered the tropics, and enjoyed 
sea travel in its most comfortable form, with blue skies, 
bright sun, gentle and steady trade winds, ship on even 
keel, everybody on deck, and everybody donning summer 
clothes in place of winter wraps. We read and conversed 
and watched the flying-fish skipping from wave to wave. 
We found the Admiral the most genial and entertaining of 
shipmates, and had occasionally a song from some of the 
younger officers, or a "yarn" from one of the older ones. 



350 A Diplomatic Visit to San Domingo 

We scanned the charts to see if we were on the track of 
Columbus, but did not discover San Salvador as he did, as 
our course was too far east of it. We passed the great bay 
and peninsula of Samana, the object of our mission, but 
deferred closer examination of them until our business 
should be transacted. In the dusk of the evening we were 
steaming through the Mona Passage, and early next 
morning were entering the Ozama River, to cast anchor 
under the frowning walls of San Domingo. The Ozama 
made a harbour large enough for the caravels of Columbus, 
and also for the Gettysburg; but the greater vessels of 
modern times have to lie outside in the open roadstead. 

Standing on a lofty plateau, high above the river, the 
old city had a mediaeval aspect. Stone towers and an 
encircling wall, with bastions, gave it the air of a fortified 
Spanish stronghold, as in old days it was. But the 
weather-stained and crumbling walls, and here and there 
heaps of ruins, showed the ravages of time. We exchanged 
salutes with the fort, received official visits from the health 
and customs officers and the American Consul, Mr. 
Somers Smith, and then disembarked and climbed the 
steep, narrow streets. We took quarters in the hotel, and, 
through the Consul, presented our credentials to Seiior 
Don Jose Garcia, the Secretary of State. He was not 
unprepared for our visit, and speedily arranged for our 
presentation to General Cabral, the President of the 
Dominican Republic. 

The President, a tall, swarthy, fine-looking gentleman, m 
civilian attire, received us courteously, and introduced 
us to the members of his Cabinet and the principal civil 
and military officers. Then we opened the subject of our 
mission. The Minister of Finance, Don Pablo Pujol, 
was appointed to act as plenipotentiary on behalf of San 
Domingo in the negotiations with us. They occupied 
some days, but it is needless to detail them here. As to 



A Diplomatic Visit to San Domingo 351 

the bay of Samana itself, we had already been well informed 
by the reports of the United States military and naval 
officers. 

In the evening we drove out through the streets of the 
old town and the adjoining country roads. The Cathedral 
and the National Palace were massive and well preserved 
edifices. All the buildings were of the Spanish type of 
architecture, but few were new. Those occupied as 
residences or shops were in fair condition. Of the others, 
some were roofless, and some almost in ruins. But this 
did not prevent their being occupied by the poorer class 
of tenants. In that genial climate, shelter and clothing 
can hardly be considered as necessaries, food is abundant, 
labour not urgent, and life is easy, for those who are con- 
tent with httle. 

Out in the country were broad driveways constructed 
centuries ago, with stately villas in various stages of 
dilapidation, and surrounded by a tangled wilderness of 
tropical vegetation. We strolled through some of the 
deserted mansions and gardens, and tasted the fruits that 
hung abundantly on every side, oranges, cocoanuts, ban- 
anas, sapodillas, guayavas, and pomegranates, growing 
without care or cultivation. Here and there some wealthy 
citizen or foreigner had purchased one of these old villas 
and fitted it up for residence — its neatly trimmed lawns 
and hedges and newly painted buildings contrasting oddly 
with the general desolation around. Far in the distance 
were the mountain summits and the various plateaus, 
where every kind of climate and vegetation may be found 
— altitude taking the place of latitude — so that one may 
pass in a day from the torrid to the temperate and almost 
to the frigid zone, without leaving the island. 

Nowhere is the memory of Columbus more warmly 
cherished than in San Domingo. It was his favourite 
island, on which he bestowed the loving appellation of 



352 A Diplomatic Visit to San Domingo 

"Hispaniola, " or "Little Spain" — now fallen into dis- 
use. They pointed out to us the ruins of the palace of 
his son, Diego Columbus, surrounded by deserted grounds. 
Fragments of the flag he planted on taking possession of 
the island are still preserved. The Cathedral was begun 
under his auspices, and the lordly title of ' ' Primate of the 
Indies" was conferred upon the archbishop. Across 
the Ozama River is shown the overgrown ruin where once 
the great discoverer was imprisoned ; and in the Cathedral 
is the slab that covers the vault where his remains were 
interred, until they were taken up and carried to Havana. 

One morning at breakfast we were informed that there 
were no eggs, no milk, and no fresh fruits. On inquiring 
why, we were told that the city gates were closed against 
all comers, as it was reported that there was a "revolution " 
going on outside. Never having met a Spanish-American 
revolution, we went out to see what it looked like. We 
found the gates closed and guarded by squads of soldiers, 
sentinels patrolling the walls, all traffic stopped, and 
groups of excited citizens talking in every street. Then 
we went up on the flat roof of the hotel and looked off 
upon the surrounding country. All appeared peaceful 
enough, except that there was a straggling line of men, with 
guns and without uniforms, walking briskly up one hill and 
down another, away from the city. We counted eighteen, 
but there may have been more hidden by the dense 
foliage. These, we were told, were the government 
forces going out in pursuit of the "revolutionists." No 
firing was heard, and nothing further seen. At nightfall 
we went out for our evening drive. The streets had re- 
sumed their usual aspect, the gates were open and un- 
guarded. The army had returned and the revolution 
was over. What it was all about we never heard. 

Meanwhile our negotiations were proceeding satis- 
factorily. The Dominican Government furnished all the 



A Diplomatic Visit to San Domingo 353 

information in its power, and its terms for letting us have 
the use of the Bay of Samana were not unreasonable. But 
now an obstacle presented itself, threatening long delay. 
On careful examination it had become evident the bay, 
which was always considered defensible in the days of short- 
range artillery, would now be within range of modern 
siege guns, if planted on the neighbouring heights. There- 
fore we should need much more than we had come prepared 
to ask for. We should need to own and fortify those 
heights. But the Dominican Constitution forbade the 
alienation of any territory of the Republic, and no amend- 
ment or change could be made without the consent of the 
Senate. President Cabral invited us to meet with his 
Cabinet and confer over this point. The Senate was not 
in session, but would be in a few weeks; and they were 
confident that its consent could then be obtained to the 
cession. Meanwhile they would give us a lease of the 
bay and its islands for a stipulated sum. It was clear to 
Admiral Porter that we did not want the bay if we could 
not have the heights commanding it. It was equally 
clear to me that neither the Administration nor Congress 
would accept the doubtful tenure of a lease, even tempor- 
arily. We must have the "fee simple" or nothing. Nor 
could we wait for the convening of the Senate. So we 
decided to return to Washington and report progress, the 
Dominicans assuring us that Don Pablo would soon follow 
us there, with the Senate's consent and full powers to con- 
clude the treaty. So we took our leave, with cordial 
expressions of regard and friendship on both sides. On 
the following morning we went on board the Gettysburg, 
weighed anchor, and started for the north. 

On our return voyage we touched at Port Royal, Ja- 
maica, and were hospitably received by the British naval 
and military authorities there. Commodore McClintock, 
of Arctic exploration fame, was then in command of the 
29 



354 A Diplomatic Visit to San Domingo 

naval station, and General O'Connor was exercising the 
functions of Governor. Then we were off again through 
the Windward Passage and the Old Bahama Channel. 
As our coal supply was running short, we put into Nassau 
to replenish. There was some doubt whether the Gettys- 
burg could get over the bar and through the narrow en- 
trance to the harbour. Captain Rowland signalled for a 
pilot, and a black one came on board. When asked as to 
the depth of water, he chuckled and said: "Oh, that's all 
right. I know this ship. She's the old Margaret and 
Jessie. I've taken her over the bar many a time when she 
was a blockade runner." 

A day or two were spent at the Victoria Hotel, where we 
met some officers of the United States Army and Navy, 
the American Consul, Thomas Kirkpatrick, and many 
American invalids who had come to seek health in a 
warmer clime. Then, the Gettysburg having been duly 
coaled and provisioned, we started for home. Bright 
skies and balmy temperature greeted us as we cruised 
through the Bahamas, and along the shores of Florida, 
Georgia, and the Carolinas. 

It had been remarked by our officers that the Gettys- 
burg was not as speedy as a blockade runner might have 
been expected to be. On our down voyage we had been 
burning anthracite coal. At Nassau we of course had 
taken in the soft British coal, for which the engines and 
furnaces of the Margaret and Jessie had been constructed. 
Feeling the change, like a horse after a fresh ' * feed of oats, " 
she started off with an accelerated speed of two or three 
more knots to the hour. 

"Off yonder," said the Admiral one morning, "lies 
Hatteras, " pointing westward over the quiet sea. 

I inquired what Cape Hatteras looked like when seen 
near at hand — whether it was a bluff, or a sandspit, or 
what? 



A Diplomatic Visit to San Domingo 355 

The Admiral said that often as he had passed it in his 
voyages he could not recall its appearance. The captain 
and other officers proved to be also unacquainted with it, 
their service having been chiefly in the Pacific. 

"Ask the quartermaster there at the wheel. He'll 
know." 

"Thomson, what does Hatteras look like? Sandy 
beach, steep bluff, or how?" 

The grizzled and weatherbeaten old sailor raised his 
hand to his cap in respectful salute. "Don't know, sir. 
Always give it a wide berth. " 

Up the Carolina and Virginia coasts, through the Capes 
and Chesapeake Bay, and up the Potomac, we finished 
our homeward journey. 

Arrived at Washington, we were called to President 
Johnson's Cabinet council, to report what we had learned 
at President Cabral's. We "reported progress." 

Some months later, according to promise, Sefior Pujol 
arrived, with full power to conclude the treaty, and 
with the Dominican Senate's consent to the cession. 
Within a week or two his negotiations with the Secretary 
of State resulted in a treaty, which was duly signed, sealed, 
and sent by President Johnson to the United States Senate 
for approval. 

But the Senate was in no mood to approve measures 
submitted to it by President Johnson. Nor was it eager 
to extend the national domain southwards. The treaty, 
if even read, was not debated nor seriously considered. 
It was shelved and disregarded. 

When, a year or two later, President Grant came into 
office, he became satisfied that the acquisition of a West 
Indian harbour would be an advantage to the United 
States. He reopened the question, and found the govern- 
ment of San Domingo ready not only to cede a harbour, 
but willing to have their whole island republic annexed to 



356 The Story of Alaska 

the United States. But the Senate again would not 
consent, and the House and newspaper press rang with 
denunciations of what was called "jobbery," "oppression 
of weak republics," and so forth. 

''Nemo omnibus horis sapit,** 

saith the Latin sage. Certainly the American Congress 
was not at that hour wise enough to accept island and 
naval stations as a gift, though in later years it was ready 
to risk thousand of lives and expend millions of dollars 
in fighting for them. 

More than forty years have elapsed, and we now have 
West Indian harbours and naval stations as a fruit of our 
war with Spain in behalf of Cuba. It is perhaps useless to 
speculate on "what might have been." But it is an 
interesting question whether, if we had accepted San 
Domingo's offers, we should ever have needed to go to 
war with Spain at all. With that island commanding the 
whole Antilles, and with naval stations outflanking those 
of Cuba, we would have been able to suggest to Spain that 
she might gracefully submit to the inevitable and retire 
from Cuba, instead of engaging in a hopeless contest to 
keep it. As it was, she felt that she was bound in honour 
to defend it against an enemy whose naval advantages 
were apparently not greater than her own. Our experi- 
ences with San Domingo furnish a fresh illustration of the 
old historic truth, that nations often solve their problems 
in the hardest way, because they have blindly refused to 
adopt any easier one. 

1740 to 1867. 
The Story of Alaska. Peter the Great naturally desired 
to know the extent of the gigantic empire of which he 
found himself the head. On the European side its bound- 



The Story of Alaska 357 

aries were tolerably well 'defined. But on the Asiatic side, 
they were vague and uncertain. Explorations and expe- 
ditions had traversed the vast wild regions of Siberia, and 
had reached Kamchatka, which seemed to be the end. 

The Kamchatkans looked off over a broad sea to their 
east. But they had traditions and rumours of "a great 
land" beyond that sea, inhabited by people much like 
themselves. There, it was said, the shores were greener, 
the trees taller, the nuts bigger, the haidarkas larger, and 
the fur-bearing animals more plentiful, the mountains 
higher, and the climate milder, the islands everywhere, 
and the fish innumerable. 

To find this region, if it existed, and to ascertain whether 
the continents of Asia and America were joined by land 
or separated by water, he ordered two expeditions to be 
fitted out. Before they were ready to start, he died. 

His widow, the Empress Catherine, and her daughter 
Elizabeth took up the work, and carried out his wishes. 

Both problems were solved by the expeditions under 
command of Captain Vitus Bering. He found that the 
shores of Asia and America converged rapidly as they 
trended northward, and finally were separated only by 
a broad strait. He found that the farther shore was a 
land much as the Kamchatkan natives had described it to 
be. As no civilized power had yet claimed it, it would 
thenceforth be known as "Russian America." 

The stirvivors of the expedition, who brought this intel- 
ligence, had also a pitiful tale to tell of their own dangers, 
disasters, and hardships. Shipwreck, disease, and death 
had lessened their numbers; and among the victims was 
their commander. He had died of exposure and fever, and 
was buried on a desolate island in the sea. Thenceforward 
the sea, the strait, and the island would all bear his name. 

The returned mariners had also marvellous tales to tell 
of the newly discovered coast, of its sables, its martens, 



358 The Story of Alaska 

its foxes, and its sea otters. Already Siberia and Kam- 
chatka had been ransacked for these costly furs, and now 
here was a new field, overflowing with opportunities for 
wealth. 

Traders and trappers from Siberia, merchants and ad- 
venturers from Moscow and St. Petersburg hastened there 
by hundreds and even thousands. They had to improvise 
their own means of conveyance. The first ones hewed 
canoes out of trees, built boats of planks lashed together 
with strips of rawhide or sealskin. 

Later, wealthy merchants built ships and regularly 
engaged in the fur trade. One man brought back, the 
first summer, five thousand skins, and so achieved a for- 
tune. Every such story brought a rush of fresh seekers 
for wealth. 

It was a wild and lawless region for a time. There was 
no governmental authority to check the sway of drunken- 
ness and robbery, fraud and force. The white men some- 
times killed each other, but the chief sufferers were the 
poor natives. However, this came to an end when the im- 
perial government slowly extended its long arm of power, 
and grappled with its unruly colonists. Military and 
naval and civil officers were sent out. Forts were built 
and garrisoned. Landing places and trading settlements 
were established, and a governor appointed to supervise 
the whole. 

Of the successive Russian governors some traditions 
are still extant, especially of the benevolent Shelikoff , who 
built churches and schools, opened courts, heard and 
redressed grievances, and sought to supersede savage 
customs by the usages of civilization. Also, of the rough, 
rugged, hospitable Baranoff, who built his castle on the 
rock at Sitka, and from there ruled his subjects with a 
rod of iron, though in the main with sagacity and rude 
justice. 



The Story of Alaska 359 

Adventtirers and traders from other lands began to find 
their way to Russian America, in such numbers as to 
threaten the ultimate extermination of the fur-bearing 
animals. The Russians wanted to keep the fur trade in 
their own hands. They were ready to sell furs to all 
comers, but preferred to control the hunting and trapping 
themselves. The Americans wanted to share in the pro- 
fitable traffic. The British wanted to push their Hudson 
Bay Company's stations across the continent to the 
Pacific. 

So arose questions of boundary and of commercial and 
national rights. It soon became necessary to make trea- 
ties to define them. Negotiations were begun, and lasted 
several years, in which participated such eminent diplo- 
matists as Nesselrode and Poletica, on the part of Russia; 
John Quincy Adams, Richard Rush, and Henry Middleton, 
of the United States; and Sir Charles Bagot, Stratford 
Canning, and the Duke of Wellington, for Great Britain. 
Finally all was duly and peaceably settled. Russia con- 
ceded maritime rights and privileges, in accordance with 
international law, but held tenaciously to her sovereignty 
over the forests and broad plains at the north, and the long 
and narrow lisiere at the south, between the mountains 
and the sea. Thus matters remained for forty years. 

It was during this period that my father, then a Senator 
of the United States, in a speech at St. Paul, Minnesota, 
made his memorable prediction : 

"Standing here and looking far off into the Northwest, 
I see the Russian, as he busily occupies himself in estab- 
lishing seaports and towns and fortifications on the verge 
of this continent, as the outposts of St. Petersburg; and 
I can say: ' Go on, and build up your outposts all along the 
coast, up even to the Arctic Ocean; they will yet become 
the outposts of my own country, — monuments of the 
civilization of the United States in the Northwest.*" 



360 The Treaty of Purchase 

1867. 

The Story of Alaska — The Treaty of Purchase. Soon 
after this came our great Civil War. During its continu- 
ance my father, as Secretary of State, had found the 
Government labouring under great disadvantages for the 
lack of advanced naval outposts in the West Indies and 
in the North Pacific. So, at the close of hostilities, he 
commenced his endeavours to obtain such a foothold in 
each quarter. 

Even as early as during the Oregon Debate in 1846-7, 
the suggestion had been made that by insisting on the 
boundary line of 54 degrees 40 minutes, and obtaining a 
cession from the Emperor Nicholas, the United States 
might own the whole Pacific coast up to the Arctic Circle. 
But the slave-holding interest, then dominant in the Fed- 
eral councils, wanted Southern, not Northern extension. 
The project was scouted as impracticable, and the line of 
54 degrees 40 minutes was given up. 

Renewing the subject now through Mr. Stoeckl, the 
Russian Minister, my father found the Government of the 
Czar not unwilling to discuss it. 

Russia would in no case allow her American possessions 
to pass into the hands of any European power. But the 
United States always had been and probably always would 
be a friend. Russian America was a remote province of 
the Empire, not easily defensible, and not likely to be soon 
developed. Under American control it would develop 
more rapidly and be more easily defended. To Russia, 
instead of a source of danger, it might become a safeguard. 
To the United States, it would give a foothold for commerci- 
al and naval operations accessible from the Pacific States. 

Seward and Gortschakoff were not long in arriving 
at an agreement upon a subject which, instead of embar- 
rassing with conflicting interests, presented some mutual 
advantages. 



The Treaty of Purchase 361 

After the graver question of national ownership came 
the minor one of pecuniary cost. The measure of the 
value of land to an individual owner is the amount of 
yearly income it can be made to produce. But national 
domain gives prestige, power, and safety to the state, and 
so is not easily to be measured by dollars and cents. Mil- 
lions cannot purchase these nor compensate for their 
loss. 

However, it was necessary to fix upon a definite sum to 
be named in the treaty, — not so small as to belittle the 
transaction in the public eye, nor so large as to deprive 
it of its real character, as an act of friendship on the part 
of Russia toward the United States. Neither side was 
especially tenacious about the amount. The previous 
treaties for the acquisition of territory from France, Spain, 
and Mexico seemed to afford an index for valuation. 
The Russians thought $10,000,000 would be a reasonable 
amount. Seward proposed $5,000,000. Dividing the 
difference made it $7,500,000. Then, at Seward's sugges- 
tion, the half million was thrown off. But the territory 
was still subject to some franchises and privileges of the 
Russian Fur Company. Seward insisted that these 
should be extinguished by the Russian Government before 
the transfer, and was willing that $200,000 should be 
added, on that account, to the $7,000,000. 

At this valuation of $7,200,000, the bargain could be 
deemed satisfactory, even from the standpoint of an 
individual fisherman, miner, or woodcutter, for the timber, 
mines, furs, and fisheries would easily yield the annual 
interest on that sum. 

On the evening of Friday, March 29th, Seward was play- 
ing whist in his parlour with some of his family, when the 
Russian Minister was announced. 

"I have a dispatch, Mr. Seward, from my government, 
by cable. The Emperor gives his consent to the cession. 



362 The Treaty of Purchase 

Tomorrow, if you like, I will come to the Department, 
and we can enter upon the treaty. " 

Seward, with a smile of satisfaction, pushed away the 
whist-table, saying, 

"Why wait till tomorrow, Mr. Stoeckl? Let us make 
the treaty tonight!" 

"But your Department is closed. You have no clerks, 
and my secretaries are scattered about the town. " 

"Never mind that," responded Seward. "If you can 
muster your legation together, before midnight you will 
find me awaiting you at the Department, which will be 
open and ready for business." 

In less than two hours afterward, light was streaming 
out of the windows of the Department of State, and ap- 
parently business was going on as at mid-day. By foiu* 
o'clock on Saturday morning, the treaty was engrossed, 
signed, sealed, and ready for transmission by the President 
to the Senate. There was need of this haste, in order to 
have it acted upon before the end of the session, now near 
at hand. 

I was then the Assistant Secretary of State. To me 
had been assigned the duty of finding Mr. Sumner, the 
Chairman of the Senate Committee on Foreign Relations, 
to inform him of the negotiations in progress, and to urge 
his advocacy of the treaty in the Senate. 

Leutze, the artist, subsequently painted an historical 
picture, representing the scene at the Department. It 
gives, with fidelity, the lighted room, the furniture and 
appointments. Seward, sitting by his writing table, pen 
in hand, is listening to the Russian Minister, whose ex- 
tended hand is just over the great globe at the Secretary's 
elbow. The gaslight, streaming down on the globe, illumi- 
nates the outline of the Russian province. The Chief 
Clerk, Mr. Chew, is coming in with the engrossed copy 
of the treaty for signature. In the background stand 



The Treaty of Purchase 363 

Mr. Hunter and Mr. Bodisco, comparing the French and 
English versions, while Mr. Sumner and I are sitting in 
conference. 

On the following morning, while the Senate was con- 
sidering its favourite theme of administrative delinquen- 
cies, the Sergeant at Arms announced, "A message from 
the President of the United States." Glances were sig- 
nificantly exchanged, with the muttered remark, "Another 
veto!" Great was the surprise in the chamber, when the 
Secretary read "A Treaty for the Cession of Russian 
America." Nor was the surprise lessened, when the 
Chairman of the Foreign Relations Committee, a leading 
opponent of the President, rose to move favourable action. 
His remarks showed easy familiarity with the subject, 
and that he was prepared to give reasons for the speedy 
approval of the treaty. 

The debate which followed in the Senate was animated 
and earnest, but in the end the treaty was confirmed with- 
out serious opposition. But the purchase was not con- 
summated without a storm of raillery in conversation and 
ridicule in the press. Russian America was declared to be 
"a barren, worthless, God-forsaken region," whose only 
products were "icebergs and polar bears." It was said 
that the ground was "frozen six feet deep," and "the 
streams were glaciers." " Walrussia, " was suggested 
as a name for it, if it deserved to have any. Vegetation 
was said to be "limited to mosses"; and "no useful ani- 
mals could live there." There might be some few 
"wretched fish," only fit for "wretched Esquimaux" to 
eat. But nothing could be raised or dug there. Seven 
millions of good money were going to be wasted in buying 
it. Many millions more would have to be spent in holding 
and defending it, — for it was "remote, inhospitable, and 
inaccessible." It was " Seward's Folly. " It was "John- 
son's Polar Bear Garden." It was "an egregious 



364 The Treaty of Purchase 

blunder," "a bad bargain," palmed off on "a silly Ad- 
ministration" by the "shrewd Russians," etc. 

Most of these jeers and flings were from those who 
disliked the President and blamed Seward for remaining 
in his Cabinet. Perhaps unwillingness to admit that 
anything wise or right could be done by "Andy Johnson's 
Administration" was the real reason for the wrath visited 
upon the unoffending territory. The feeling of hostility 
to the purchase was so strong that the House of Repre- 
sentatives would not take action toward accepting the 
territory or appropriate any money to pay for it. 

The Russian Government courteously waived any de- 
mand for immediate payment and signified readiness to 
make the final transfer whenever the United States might 
desire. Accordingly commissioners were appointed, who 
proceeded to Sitka, 

On a bright day in August, 1867, with brief but impres- 
sive ceremonies, amid salutes from the Russian and 
American naval vessels, the American flag was raised over 
the new territory to be thenceforth known as "Alaska." 

This ceremony might be called the christening as well as 
the transfer. The territory had previously been known 
as "Russian America." During the progress of the 
treaty through the Senate, there were occasional discus- 
sions in the State Department and in the Cabinet as to 
the name to be bestowed upon it by the United States. 
Several were suggested as appropriate, among them 
"Sitka," the name of its capital, "Yukon," that of its 
chief river, "Aliaska" or "Alaska," derived from the 
name of its great peninsiila "Oonalaska," and "Aleutia, " 
derived from its chain of islands. Seward, with whom the 
final decision rested, preferred "Alaska" as being brief, 
euphonious, and suitable. The name was generally 
accepted with favour and began to be used before the 
transfer was made. 



My Father's Diary — and Others 365 

It was not until the 27th of July, in the following year, 
that the act making appropriation to pay for Alaska was 
finally passed and approved — the Chairman of the Foreign 
Affairs Committee of the House, General Banks, being its 
effective advocate. On the next day the Secretary of 
State made his requisition upon the Treasury for $7,200- 
000, to be paid to the Russian Government, 

The United States at first merely garrisoned the forts 
at Wrangell, Tongass, and Sitka with small detachments 
of troops. The Russian inhabitants generally remained, 
but they were few in number. The Indians were peace- 
able and friendly in the neighbourhood of the forts, though 
sometimes belligerent in the remoter regions. 

A shrewd old Indian chief was one day watching the 
soldiers drilling at Sitka. He said to the commander, 
*'What for you work your men on land with guns? Why 
you no work them on water with canoes?" It was a 
valuable suggestion. As the Indians lived principally on 
fish and marine animals their villages were all on the shores 
of bays, sounds, and rivers. Armed vessels patrolling the 
waters could easily control them, while soldiers cooped 
up in garrison or struggling through forests would be 
useless. When this became understood at Washington, 
naval vessels and revenue cutters were ordered to Alaskan 
waters and rendered good service there. 

My Father's Diary — and Others. One day, during his 
first week in the Department of State, my father requested 
me to get a blank book for him, remarking that as the 
epoch would probably be one of historic importance, he 
should begin to keep a diary. A smtable book was ob- 
tained and laid upon his table. 

On the following morning he came out of his room with 
the book in his hand. In giving it back to me, he said: 

*' There is the first page of my diary and the last. One 



366 My Father's Diary^and Others 

day's record satisfies me that if I should every day set 
down my hasty impressions, based on half information, I 
should do injustice to everybody around me, and to none 
more than to my most intimate friends." 

The book still remains with its one written page. 

At the time, I thought his decision was a wise one, and 
subsequently, perusal of what purport to be extracts from 
the diaries of well-known public men convince me of the 
correctness of that judgment. 

When, in 1913, I read in Mr. Bigelow's diary the story 
of the enormous lobby fees in connection with the Alaska 
bill, the question naturally occurred to me. Why should 
my father tell the story to Mr. Bigelow instead of telling 
it to me? I was with him, and in his daily confidence, 
knew about the bill being held up in Congress, and was 
quite as anxious as he was for its passage. Yet he never 
told the story to me at all ! 

Another defect of the story seemed to be: where did the 
money come from? The full amount of $7,200,000 was 
paid over to the Russian Minister, as the books of the 
Treasiiry show, and as the Treasury warrant also attests. 
There was no other fund to take it from. The small 
annual appropriation for diplomatic work, known as "the 
secret- service fund," would not begin to meet such heavy 
payments. To suppose that anyone would carry such an 
amount in his pockets, or keep it in his bank account, of 
course would be absiu-d. 

My own conjecture is, that he told Mr. Bigelow, who 
had recently arrived from Paris, the sort of news that he 
might expect to find flying around Washington and the 
lobbies of the Capitol, and that Mr. Bigelow, not fully 
comprehending that these were canards, went home and 
set them down in his diary as actual facts. 

Certainly there were plenty of such stories at that time. 
The air was full of them. Various rumours were afloat 



My Father's Diary — and Others 367 

to the effect that some of the purchase money had been 
used to corrupt agents of the Russian Government, or to 
buy votes in Congress, or to subsidize newspapers, etc. 
A committee was directed by the House of Representatives 
to investigate the tales, and soon found that most of 
them were malicious and all of them absurd. This in- 
vestigation is described in my memoirs of my father's life, 
on page 392 of the third volume. Its proceedings will be 
found in the Congressional Record of the year 1868. 

The Secretary of State appeared before this committee 
and said: 

"I gave notice to the Russian Minister that the requi- 
sition had been made, and that he could call upon the 
Secretary of the Treasury for the money. I assume, upon 
general information, that the money was paid. I do not 
know when it was paid out of the Treasury, nor to whom 
it was paid. I know nothing whatever of the use the 
Russian Minister made of the fund. I know of no pay- 
ment to anybody by him. 

" In regard to all those allegations, I have no knowledge. 
I thought the Alaska purchase a very good, proper, and 
national achievement; and out of the funds of the State 
Department, therefore, I subscribed for a small number of 
the speeches made by Mr. Charles Sumner, to be used for 
the information of the public and of Congress. Various 
persons, some connected and others not connected with the 
government, patriotic gentlemen as I supposed, came to 
give me their cordial support and co-operation in the 
matter; and among the rest were Mr. Sumner and Mr. 
Robert J. Walker. Whenever I found they were in pos- 
session of information or arguments which would be useful, 
such as documentary information, I received it and trans- 
mitted it to Congress, who had it published. All that I 
ever did, or that I ever expended, was in that way, and in 
no other, and no engagement was ever made with any- 



368 Oriental Indemnity Funds 

body for any part of the purchase-money, or any other 
fund. 

' ' My impression is that the whole expense and cost to 
the United States Government for the negotiation, pay- 
ment, and everything, did not exceed $500. As to any 
other fund to subsidize or propitiate the press, or any 
person connected therewith, I have knowledge that no 
fund at the State Department went to subsidize any press 
anywhere. But when I found there was a continued fire 
all along the line of the press against the Alaska purchase 
and the purchase of St. John's and St. Thomas, and I read 
how valueless these possessions were, by reason of per- 
petual icebergs in Alaska, and the universal cannonading 
of volcanoes and hurricanes down through the West Indies, 
I recollected the attacks of the Federal party upon Mr. 
Jefferson's Administration for making the purchase of 
Louisiana. I was familiar with that literature in my 
boyhood, as you all probably were, and I sent a young 
man — Mr. Dimon — to New York and Albany for the 
purpose of collecting from the Federal press (remaining 
in public libraries) extracts and articles attacking Mr. 
Jefferson in such papers. He collected and sent them to 
me. 

"These articles were published through the press, so 
far as they would do it gratuitously, but in no other way. 
That is all I know of the influence upon the press. " 

He might have added that among the accusations made 
against him at this time was that of being an accomplice 
in the attempt at his own assassination. 

1867. 

Oriental Indemnity Funds. When a man pays us more 

money than we are entitled to, the simple and honest way 

to do, is to hand the surplus back to him. But when the 

transaction is between two great governments, it is not so 



Oriental Indemnity Funds 369 

easy. Government financial machinery is intricate and 
complex. And there are always political casuists to prove 
that the rules of ordinary morality do not apply to the case. 

So, when Mr. Baker, the disbursing agent of the State 
Department, informed the Secretary of State that a con- 
siderable portion of the Japanese indemnity fund was still 
remaining in his hands, my father inquired, "How does 
this happen, Mr. Baker?" 

The reply was that the respective claims of the various 
claimants had all been audited and paid, and there was 
still some money left. 

"Why not pay it back to Japan?" 

The reply to this was — "Nothing can be paid by govern- 
ment officers except under provisions of law, and there is 
no law applicable to this case. " 

"How was the money paid to us?" 

"In Japanese gold," was the reply. 

"Ask Mr. Hunter what precedent there is — how have 
other governments treated such matters." 

Mr. Hiinter was not aware there had ever been a pre- 
cedent. Most governments take all they can get and seem 
to be rather proud of doing it. 

Evidently the United States had asked and received 
more money than they were entitled to. The Secretary of 
State stated the facts of the case in Cabinet meeting, and 
suggested that the President, in a message to Congress, 
should request authority to make proper restitution of the 
money. This was agreed to, and the President did so. 

But when the matter thus came before Congress there 
were debates and delays. It was urged that it would be 
folly to pay back the money when Japan had not asked 
for it. It was argued that to pay it back would be a con- 
fession that we had been in the wrong in demanding it, 
which would be humiliating to the nation. Then it was 
said that to pay it back would be to expose the Japanese 
34 



370 Oriental Indemnity Funds 

officials to the censures of their people, for having yielded 
to an unjust demand. Then it was proposed to use it for 
some public enterprise that would benefit both countries — 
a Pacific coast university — a school of diplomacy — Lega- 
tion buildings — ships — forts — telegraphs, etc. Congress 
is not only a deliberative body, but a controversial one. 
So the session rolled away, and nothing was done. 

Finding that there was likely to be delay before a de- 
cision could be reached in Congress, the Secretary of State 
now directed that the money should be invested in govern- 
ment registered bonds, as the best way to keep it safely. 
Session after session passed, the President's messages 
again and again called attention to it, but still Congress 
reached no conclusion. 

Meanwhile the credit of the United States appreciated. 

The bonds bought at a discount and paid for in gold 
rose rapidly in value. Interest accrued on them, was paid 
and reinvested "in like manner." So the $606,838 
originally received from Japan amounted in 1869 to a 
much larger sum. 

Here began new perplexities, and fresh debates in Con- 
gress. It was argued that even if Japan was entitled to 
the original amount, she was not entitled to the interest. 
At any rate, how could she be entitled to the additional 
amount which our thrifty government had earned at com- 
pound interest? And if she was paid the original surplus, 
dollar for dollar, in gold, what should be done with the 
residue? 

Another similar indemnity fund had now been received 
from China. In this case the balance over and above the 
audited claims, by the same careful management, had 
much increased. 

The two Eastern governments, with becoming sense of 
their dignity, looked on placidly, and declined to make 
any complaint or demand, saying that they left the whole 



The Japanese Commissioners 371 

matter to the wisdom and friendship of the United States 
Government, in which they had entire confidence. 

My father directed that exact account should be kept, 
so that, in due time, the amounts should be turned over 
to his successor, to be held until Congress should finally 
decide. 

Ultimately, after a few more years of delay. Congress 
found it to be both wise and right to pay the money back 
to Japan and China, in such manner as to convince them 
that we were actuated solely by desire for fair and honest 
dealing. There is no doubt that the action of the United 
States in these matters came to the Oriental governments 
as an agreeable surprise, and led them to the opinion that 
there was one government, at least, to which they might 
look for friendship and justice. 

Forty years have now elapsed, and Japan and China 
have repeatedly asked the United States for advice and 
counsel in governmental reforms — have employed Ameri- 
can advisers in making such reforms, and have sent their 
young men to the United States to be educated in modern 
methods. How much of the change that has occurred in 
those governments is attributable to the moral influence 
of these events, it is impossible to estimate. 

Certainly it would have seemed, forty years ago, most 
unlikely that we should be dealing today with Japan as a 
modern parliamentary government, and China as a full- 
fledged republic. 

1867. 

The Japanese Commissioners. General Van Valken- 
burg, who was now, in 1867, the American Minister to 
Japan, wrote that the Japanese, having emerged from their 
long seclusion, were desirous of a better understanding 
with the other nations. 

Commercial facilities were accordingly extended, and 



372 The Japanese Commissioners 

diplomatic intercourse was enlarged. They manifested 
not only a commendable cviriosity in regard to for- 
eign ways and customs and inventions, but also a de- 
sire to adopt any that might be found better than their 
own. 

He reported that the Government had carried out their 
engagements relative to the opening of ports, "in so 
liberal a manner, as not only to satisfy my colleagues and 
myself, but also to inspire me with perfect confidence." 
Sites for foreign settlements were selected at Hiogo, Osaka, 
and Yeddo, and arrangements made for the appoint- 
ment of consular officers. Persecution of Christians was 
abandoned and Christian houses of worship were to be 
established. 

Two commissioners were to be sent out in accordance 
with this new policy. They bore the sonorous names of 
Ono Tomogoro and Matsumoto Judayu. They were to 
visit navy yards, arsenals, foundries, machine shops, etc., 
and if possible purchase one or more ships of war. 

The commissioners duly arrived by way of San Fran- 
cisco, with their secretaries, interpreters, and suite. 
Among them were two officers of the modern navy about 
to be established by Japan. 

They were all installed in lodgings at Wormley's. The 
Secretary of State received them at the Department, and 
in the evening they called at his house. As several of 
them were of such rank as to be "two-sworded men," 
and as it was not in accordance with Japanese etiquette 
to wear these ornaments into a parlour, quite a pile of 
sw^ords accumulated at the door. Their costumes were 
of gay colours, and mostly of silk on this occasion, though 
they intimated that they had tried the American costume 
at San Francisco, and that some of them had provided 
themselves with frock coats and hats, "if it will not be 
deemed improper for us to wear them." 



The Japanese Commissioners 373 

They regarded with poHte curiosity the pictures and 
furniture which were novel to them, but recognized as a 
familiar friend a Japanese chess table which stood in the 
room, and seated themselves at it to show that they under- 
stood the game. 

Tea was served, and when I inquired if it was at all like 
what they had at home, they evaded replying. They said 
that it was very good and they liked it, and asked of what 
plant it was made in this country? A small statuette of 
Buddha stood on the mantel. This, one of the Secretaries 
observed, and said that at Yeddo there was a statue of that 
deity sixty feet high. On my expressing surprise, they 
replied through the interpreter that "though he was so 
big they did not believe in him. " 

They were presented on the following day to the Presi- 
dent. A dinner was given to them by the Secretary of 
State, and Senator Sumner as chairman of the Foreign 
Relations Committee, Baron Gerolt as Dean of the Diplo- 
matic Corps, and Admiral Porter as head of the navy, were 
invited to meet them. After dinner there was an evening 
reception, to which many ladies came. The commis- 
sioners expressed their satisfaction at meeting them, and 
regretted that the customs of their country had not per- 
mitted them to bring their wives. 

On the following day an officer of the State Department 
was detailed to accompany them in their explorations and 
sightseeing. He reported that they inspected all the 
chief public buildings with grave demeanour, and made 
intelligent inquiries and comments in regard to them. 
Then, going down Pennsylvania Avenue, they visited 
various shops. Rather to his surprise, the jewelry and 
drygoods seemed to interest them but little, but they were 
highly pleased with the novelties which they found in the 
hardware and tinsmiths' shops. The tinware especially 
delighted them, and they made many inquiries as to its 



374 The Japanese Commissioners 

manufacture — exclaiming "it is so beautiful and so cheap. 
It should be introduced into Japan. " 

It is needless to say that their visits to the Arsenal and 
Navy Yard were even more painstaking and fruitful of 
results. Nothing seemed to escape their observation. 
Subsequent events in the wars of Japan have shown that 
the information thus gained for their government was 
promptly and wisely used. 

When my father and I went to make an official call on 
them, at Wormleys, we found Ono Tomogoro standing 
surrounded by his secretaries and interpreters and arrayed 
in his official robes of flowered satin. But his colleague, 
Matsumoto Judayu, came forward with evident pride, to 
show us that he had adopted the American costume, which 
we could not help thinking was not so becoming or dig- 
nified as his own. Among the subordinates, also, there 
were signs of the adoption of Western habiliments. 

When Ono Tomogoro courteously waived us to seats, 
and ordered the customary tea to be brought, there was a 
hasty colloquy with one of his secretaries. Turning to us, 
he said with a smile: "In Japan we offer our visitors 
always tea, but my secretary informs me that the custom 
in America is champagne." We had some difficulty in 
assuring him that champagne was not the national drink 
which we offered to all comers. 

The Commissioners remained in Washington some 
weeks, and were frequent visitors at the Department, as 
well as at the house of the Secretary. They asked the aid 
of the government to enable them to purchase arms with 
the latest scientific improvements and to build a ship of 
war with the latest modern appliances. 

One of the chief purposes of their mission was accom- 
plished when they purchased the Stonewall. This vessel, 
built for the Confederates, now belonged to the United 
States. The Secretary of State wrote to General Van 



China's Entry into Field of Diplomacy 375 

Valkenburg advising him of the purchase and saying that 
the Stonewall was fitting for sea at the Washington Navy 
Yard, and that Captain Brown of the Navy had been 
granted leave of absence, to aid in the transfer of the vessel 
to Yokohama. Part of the purchase money was paid 
down in gold by the Japanese, the rest was to be remitted 
from Yeddo. He added in the dispatch, "It is hoped that 
the Commissioners who are now crossing the Pacific on 
their way to Japan will carry back with them an impression 
of us as agreeable as that made by themselves. " 

China's Entry into the Field of Diplomacy. Prince 
Kung, the Regent of China, gave a farewell dinner to 
Anson Burlingame, on the occasion of his resignation and 
return home. It was attended by several of the high 
Chinese officials. 

Great regret was expressed at his departure, and urgent 
requests made that he would, like Sir Frederick Bruce, 
state China's difficulties, and inform the treaty powers of 
the desire of the Chinese to be friendly and progressive. 

China's isolated position among nations had exposed 
her to foreign intrigues and designs, and she had no repre- 
sentatives of her own to prevent or defend her against 
them. 

During the conversation at the dinner, Wan Siang, a 
leading councillor of the Prince, said to Burlingame, "Why 
will you not represent us officially?" At first Burlingame 
supposed this was but an exaggerated form of Chinese 
politeness, but he soon learned that the proposal was 
seriously made. He was requested to delay his departure 
a few days until a formal proposition was made requesting 
him to act for China as ambassador to all the treaty 
powers. He wrote to my father : 

" I thought anxiously upon the subject, and, after a con- 
sultation with my friends, determined in the interest of 



376 China's Entry into Field of Diplomacy 

our country and of civilization to accept. My colleagues 
approved of the action of the Chinese, and did all they 
could to forward the interests of the mission. Two Chinese 
gentlemen of the highest rank were selected from the 
foreign office to conduct the Chinese correspondence, and 
as ' learners. ' My suite will number about thirty persons. 
I shall leave for the United States by the February steamer 
for California." 

My father received and answered this letter, with his 
hearty approval. He at once made arrangements for the 
reception of this novel legation. They arrived in Wash- 
ington about the first of June. Their credentials read: 
*' Anson Burlingame, of the first Chinese rank, Envoy 
Extraordinary, and High Minister Plenipotentiary, and 
Chih Kang and Sun Chia Ku of the second Chinese rank, 
associated High Envoys and Ministers, respectively, to 
the United States of America." 

Burlingame came to our house in the evening prior to 
the delivery of these credentials. He desired to consult 
my father as to whether his becoming a Chinese Minister 
would interfere with his status as an American citizen. 
My father's judgment was, that no such obstacle existed, 
as Burlingame had already informed the Chinese Govern- 
ment that, while endeavouring to serve them to the best 
of his ability, he must adhere to his native allegiance. 

"But, Burlingame, how about the personal audience? 
You are now the representative of the Celestial Empire, 
with which a grave diplomatic question, about 'personal 
audience by the Emperor,' has been pending for years. 
If the American Minister is not received by the head of 
the Government, at Peking, how can the Chinese Minister 
be received by the head of the Government in Washing- 
ton? We must find some way of bridging that difficulty. " 

Fortunately it happened that the Emperor of China, 
at this juncture, was only a small boy, and this enabled 



China's Entry into Field of Diplomacy 377 

the Secretary of State to bridge over the difficulty by this 
formal reply. 

" It is well understood that, owing to the minority of the 
Emperor of China, the sovereign authority is now exer- 
cised by a regency. Reserving therefore and waiving, 
though only during the Emperor's minority, the question 
concerning the privilege of personal audience by the head 
of the Chinese Government, the President will receive their 
Excellencies the High Ministers of China, on Friday at 
12 o'clock at the Executive Mansion." 

On the appointed day President Johnson cordially re- 
ceived the new Chinese envoys. Burlingame began his 
address by saying that, if he had not been kindly relieved 
from embarrassment by the Secretary of State, his first 
duty on this occasion would be to "explain how it is that 
I, who left this capital seven years ago as a Minister of the 
United States to China, have now returned here a Minis- 
ter from China to the United States." 

He announced that the Chinese Government now ac- 
cepted the system of International Law in use among 
the Western Powers, and was now about to open a reg- 
ular diplomatic intercourse not only with the United 
States, but with Belgium, Denmark, France, Great Brit- 
ain, Holland, Italy, North Germany, Russia, Spain, and 
Sweden. 

The President's reply welcomed the coming of the 
Legation as an evidence of the growth of mutual trust and 
confidence, as well as of the sagacity of the Chinese govern- 
ment. In conclusion he said he would "build upon this 
day's transaction an expectation that the great empire, 
instead of remaining as heretofore merely passive, will 
henceforth be induced to take an active part in the general 
progress of civilization. " 

The Legation was installed at Brown's Hotel, in a 
spacious suite of rooms. The great yellow flag, bearing 



378 China's Entry into Field of Diplomacy 

the Imperial Dragon, floated in the breeze from the roof of 
the hotel during their stay. 

Needless to say that many anxious observers were at- 
tracted there for a glimpse of their faces, and cues, their 
caps with insignia of rank, and their gorgeous robes of 
flowered satin. Needless also to say that visitors were 
welcomed with many affable smiles, and very little English. 

Mr. Burlingame kept his American name and costume. 
The Chinese associate Envoys were styled " Sun-Taj en, " 
and " Chih-Tajen. " Their chief was also entitled to be 
styled " Burlin-Tajen, " the title so appended having a 
meaning equivalent to the European prefix of "His 
Excellency." 

The secretaries and attaches were selected by the For- 
eign Office with reference to their proficiency in the various 
languages required. Thus two could speak French, two 
German, two Italian, two Russian, and two Dutch. 

Now came the work on the treaty. It was elaborate, 
because it was hoped that the other powers might take it 
as a model for similar ones. 

As the period was one of high political excitement over 
"reconstruction" and "impeachment," it was thought 
best, in order to avoid delay from unfriendly criticism and 
partisan wrangling, to admit as few people as possible to 
knowledge of its provisions beforehand. So the example 
of the Alaska treaty was followed. The ordinary course 
of protocols and notes and references was omitted. The 
Secretary of State and the three "Taj en" agreed upon the 
various points in verbal conference. 

The treaty placed China in an entirely new attitude 
toward other Powers. Instead of remaining a remote, 
secluded empire, yielding reluctant concessions, she now 
gave her adhesion to the principles of Western Interna- 
tional Law, and to more advanced doctrines in regard to 
personal rights than most Western nations had yet been 



China's Entry into Field of Diplomacy 379 

able to adopt. The treaty guaranteed liberty of con- 
science, and protection from persecution on account of 
religious opinions. It recognized the right of man to 
change his home and religious belief, and also the mutual 
advantage of immigration and emigration, for trade, 
travel, or permanent residence. It pledged neutrality in 
war, and forbade foreign nations to carry their mutual 
quarrels into China. It opened public educational in- 
stitutions, and gave the right to establish schools. It 
provided for diplomatic and consular intercoiurse, for 
international improvements and closer relations of inter- 
national friendships. 

A state dinner was given at the White House to the 
Chinese Envoys, and they received many other hospitali- 
ties. My father entertained them at Washington, and 
subsequently on their northern trip met them on the way, 
and, opening his home at Auburn, received them there. 
From there they went to Niagara Falls. 

Chih-Tajen and Sun-Taj en took part in the verbal con- 
ferences, as well as in the drafting of the treaty. They 
offered no objections, but on the contrary highly approved 
its advanced ideas. They brought with them a bulky 
volume containing a translation into Chinese of Wheaton's 
International Law. Its title in Chinese literally trans- 
lated read. All Nations' Public Laws. 

They were especially solicitous not to offend by any 
infraction of the manners and customs of the Western 
nations, which they were desirous to learn and adopt. 
At the State dinner, Chih-Tajen inquired of me whether 
it would be any infraction of the rules of politeness to taste 
each one of the several courses presented to him. I told 
him that it was exactly what I should do if I went to a 
State dinner in China. They declined my invitation to go 
to St. John's Church, although anxious to witness the 
ceremonies, as they feared they might give offence by not 



380 China's Entry into Field of Diplomacy 

knowing when to get up and sit down. I told them it 
would not be expected of them to conform to those usages, 
and even offered to take a seat at the back where they 
would not be noticed. But they thought on the whole it 
was best to abstain from going. 

Mr. Burlingame frequently adverted to the aid he had 
received in China from four of the other Ministers at that 
Court, Sir Frederick Bruce of England, M. Berthemy the 
French Minister, and MM. Balluzek and Vlangally the 
Russian Envoys. A familiar phrase at the Court de- 
scribed the "four busy B's" as the leaders of advanced 
opinion, both in the diplomatic circle and among the 
Chinese themselves, in favour of a liberal and progressive 
policy between China and the Western powers. 

When my father visited China in his journey round the 
world in 1870, among his first visitors at Shanghai were 
Chih-Tajen and Sun-Tajen. They announced to him the 
success of their diplomatic labours in Europe, condoled 
with him on the death of Mr. Burlingame, and thanked 
him over and over again for the aid they had received from 
him in their mission, and dwelt long and gratefully on 
the hospitalities which they had enjoyed in the United 
States. 

At Peking, he had a long and interesting conversation 
with Wan Siang, the Minister of Foreign Affairs. Wan 
Siang was the master spirit who led the Chinese Govern- 
ment in the enterprise of entering into diplomatic rela- 
tions with the Western powers. He had asked, and 
obtained from my father, the copy of Wheaton's Law of 
Nations^ and had it translated and adopted by the imperial 
government. He, more than any other, was the effective 
mover in instituting the diplomatic mission of Mr. Bur- 
lingame. 

They talked over the various questions in regard to 
China's action and found they were quite in accord in 



The Portrait Gallery 381 

believing that the time had arrived for China to adopt a 
more just and liberal policy in her governmental affairs. 
He asked my father for suggestions, and, when made, said 
they were in harmony with his own sentiments. He 
spoke somewhat sadly and regretfully as to the slow pro- 
gress he had made in inducing his fellow-countrymen and 
governmental associates to share in his ideas of a more 
enlightened policy. 

He said: "I have attempted to procure the establish- 
ment of an Imperial college, in which modern sciences and 
languages shall be taught. For a while, I thought I should 
succeed. But the effort has failed, and has brought me 
under deep reproach and general suspicion." 

My father replied: "This ought not to discourage you. 
Every wise minister at some time falls under temporary 
reproach and unjust suspicion. Public opinion in every 
country is a capricious sea. Whoever attempts to navi- 
gate it, is liable to be tossed about by storms." 

Wan Siang said: "It is, as you say, indeed unavoidable. 
A statesman stands on a hill. He looks farther, in all 
directions, than the people, who are standing at the foot 
of the hill, can see. When he points out what course they 
ought to take, they are suspicious that he is misdirecting 
them. They cry 'Pull him down!' When they have at 
last gained the summit from which he points the way, they 
then correct their misjudgment. But this, although it 
may be sufficient — for them — comes too late for the 
statesman." 

The Portrait Gallery. Grey, bent, and weary, my father 
was standing one evening in the parlour of his Washington 
home, looking at the portraits which thickly overspread 
its walls. 

During eight years, now drawing to a close, gradual 
additions had increased the number until they now formed 



382 The Portrait Gallery 

"a diplomatic gallery" of the world's sovereigns and 
ministers. 

He pointed out to his guests those who during that time 
had passed from office or from earth. Leopold of Belgium 
had been succeeded by his son ; Frederick of Denmark by 
Christian IX.; Isabella Segunda of Spain, fat and fair, 
had been dethroned and exiled ; Pius IX. of Rome, gentle 
old man, was shorn of temporal power; Abdul Medjid of 
Turkey, slender and dark, had been assassinated and 
followed by Abdul Aziz ; Hien Fung of China had yielded 
the Celestial Throne to Tung Chi, a baby ; the Tycoon of 
Japan, with his high headdress, emblematic of supreme 
power, had been deposed and banished by the Mikado; 
Maximilian of Austria was executed in sight of his army, at 
Queretaro ; Carlotta his empress was a wanderer and insane. 

Then the array of South American Presidents — their 
brief tenure ended by an election, or shortened by war and 
violence — Mosquera deposed, Cabral overthrown, Prado 
assassinated, Geffrard banished, and so on through a long 
Hst. 

Premiers and ministers of foreign affairs had found their 
terms even more brief: Earl Russell, Thouvenel, Drouyn 
de I'Huys, Cavour, Rogier, Zuylen D' Avila, Manderstrom, 
Calderon, Van Schleinitz, and their contemporaries in 
office had all experienced the mutations of politics and 
of time. Gortschakoff's placid face beamed from its 
frame, as a reminder that he alone of all the Ministers of 
Foreign Affairs with whom my father had held intercourse 
in 1 86 1 was now remaining in office in 1869. And all this 
had happened in the brief period of eight years ! 

"It is a sermon on the instability of human greatness," 
remarked one of the guests. 

"Perhaps so," said my father with a smile; "I can only 
hope that they all enjoyed the prospect of getting out of 
office as much as I do." 



The "Great Tyee" in Alaska 383 

1869. 

The " Great Tyee " in Alaska. Two years after the 
cession of Russian America, my father, having retired from 
office, was travelling in the west. 

At San Francisco, his friends made up a party to accom- 
pany him, to see the territory he had purchased for the 
nation. The steamship Active was placed at their dis- 
posal by Ben Holliday. 

They cruised along the California and Oregon coasts, 
explored Puget Sound, with its great forests, busy mills, 
and growing villages, were received with courteous hos- 
pitalities at Victoria, and then passed on through the 
magnificent scenery of the Inland Passage. 

All there was beautiful, silent, and lonely. Not a vessel 
nor a human habitation in sight. Only an occasional 
canoe of an Indian fisherman. Cautiously proceeding 
through waters as yet but imperfectly known, we arrived 
at last at Sitka. 

The little town had been built by the Russians, of 
squared hewn timbers, — it being easier, as a townsman 
remarked, "to square a log than to get a board. " A high 
stockade separated it from the Indian huts and lodges just 
outside. A medley of population walked its streets: 
Russians in their national dress. United States soldiers 
in their blue uniforms, Indians in blankets and feathers, 
traders and travellers in the garb of San Francisco. 

Several days were devoted to points of interest, the 
historic castle and church, and the embryo modern enter- 
prises. Then, a week later, the Active weighed anchor and 
proceeded northward with my father and his party, this 
time accompanied by General Davis and his staff. Some 
of the friendly Sitka Indians acted as pilots, and the 
destination was the Chilkat River, the headquarters of 
the formidable tribe recently engaged in hostilities with 
the troops. 



384 The "Great Tyee" in Alaska 

They had expressed a desire for peace, and this visit of 
the Active would give an opportunity to treat with them. 
Besides, as the General laughingly told the ex-Secretary, 
he looked to him for valuable assistance in the negotiations. 
The General, in talking with the Indians, had given them 
news that a scientific expedition sent out from Washington 
to observe the total eclipse of the sun was coming among 
them; and also that the " Great Tyee" (or chief), who had 
bought the whole territory, was coming to make it a visit. 

It had not occurred to him that the Indian understanding 
of the fact woiild be different from his own. But he soon 
found that, to their simple minds, it meant the advent of 
the sovereign owner of the soil. They could not under- 
stand how a great "Tyee" could buy Alaska, and then 
not own it. They were expecting to welcome him with 
great respect, and to receive favours at his hands. 

As to the eclipse story, they received that with some 
incredulity, but thought it had some connection with the 
visit of the "Great Tyee." 

After three days spent in traversing the various straits, 
channels, and sounds, the steamer anchored at the mouth 
of the Chilkat River. 

Communication was opened with the Indians, and the 
next day came messengers from the Coast Survey party, 
inviting the "Great Tyee" and his friends to come up 
and visit their camp. This invitation was accompanied 
by one from Klakautch, the Chilkat chief, who sent canoes 
to aid the ship's boats in bringing the guests. 

They embarked, and, pulling rapidly up the river, soon 
lost sight of the steamer, as she came cautiously along 
behind them, "feeling her way with the lead" in unknown 
waters. 

Arrived at their destination, they were welcomed by Mr. 
Davidson, the head of the Coast Survey party, and the 
Chilkat chief, who had placed one of his great lodges at the 



The "Great Tyee" in Alaska 385 

service of the scientific party, and the other at that of 
the "Great Tyee" and General Davis. 

Each of these royal residences was a substantial struc- 
ture of hewn logs, seventy or eighty feet long. Its en- 
trance was guarded by a score of Indian dogs, yelping and 
howling in chorus. Within, the house had no partitions, 
but formed one vast room, from the earth, which was its 
floor, to the roof, with an opening in the centre to let out 
the smoke. Hanging blankets or skins shut off one end 
for sleeping places, or depositing of valuables. 

Here they supped on fresh fish and game, cooked at the 
blazing fire in the centre of the lodge, and passed a com- 
fortable night with semi-civilized, semi-savage surround- 
ings, wrapped in bear skins and army blankets. 

The eclipse was to occur on the 7th. When Mr. David- 
son commenced posting his assistants at different stand- 
points, — one armed with a telescope, another with a 
sextant, another with a camera, another with a chrono- 
meter, and another with pencil and note book, all 
gazing intently at the sun, and pointing their mysteri- 
ous instruments towards it, — it seemed proof positive to 
the uneducated Indian mind that they were a sort of sharp- 
shooters, taking aim at that luminary. 

When, at the time announced, the first faint line of 
obscuration began to creep over the disc of the sun, stolid- 
ity .and incredulity gave way to visible anxiety, and the 
Indians gathered more closely round the little circle of 
observers. When these were shifting the instruments and 
noting their observations, and Mr. Davidson was passing 
rapidly and quietly from one to another, giving directions 
and receiving reports, it certainly looked as if the "Boston 
men" were personally conducting the exhibition. 

The shadow had crept about half way over the face of 
the sun, when the Chilkats began to expostulate. They 
said they were convinced of the "Boston men's" skill, but 

25 



386 The "Great Tyee" in Alaska 

they had seen enough now, and they feared bad conse- 
quences if the thing went further. But the observers were 
too busy to Hsten or explain. 

The black shadow crept steadily on and on, over the sun. 
The weird, unusual light, which was neither day nor night, 
settled down over river and forest. Birds and insects were 
hushed and sombre silence covered the scene. On board 
the Active, when the eclipse became total, the chickens in 
the coop went to roost, the cow laid down contentedly 
for the night, and some of the Sitka Indians, who had been 
taught by the Russians, fell to their knees and fervently 
repeated the Lord's Prayer in Greek. 

There were unmistakable signs and exclamations of re- 
lief when the shadow began to pass away. The Indians 
were convinced that the "Boston men" were taking it off 
as skilfully and methodically as they had put it on. The 
Coast Survey party were highly pleased with the suc- 
cessful termination of their enterprise, and general satis- 
faction came back with the sunshine. 

Soon after, the Chilkat chief invited his guests to come 
to his lodge, to meet the principal people of his tribe. The 
assemblage numbered two or three hundred. The chiefs 
of greater and less degree, the warriors, the medicine men, 
and the women stood in grave, passive rows all round the 
sides of the building, — the chief Klakautch and his guests 
being seated in the middle. 

The latter had not quite understood whether this 
gathering was for a formal and ceremonious greeting or 
for some other purpose. They were not left long in 
doubt. 

As soon as all had assembled, Klakautch rose and ut- 
tered a few emphatic sentences, which the interpreter 
proceeded to translate: 

"Some time ago, the Kalosh (or Sitka Indians) killed 
three of the Chilkats. Now the Great Tyee has come. 



The "Great Tyee" in Alaska 387 

We have gathered to ask him, what he is going to do 
about it?" 

So sudden and direct a demand seemed to require a 
categorical answer, and Seward had never even heard of 
the case. He asked, 

"When did this killing take place?" 

Question and answer were translated by the interpreter. 
The date was given in Indian fashion, reckoning by " suns " 
and "moons." It appeared that it happened nine or ten 
years before. 

"Then it happened," Seward said, "when this country 
belonged to the Emperor of Russia, long before it became 
the property of the United States. He was a great sover- 
eign, who listened to the Indians, and treated them with 
kindness. This demand should have been made to him. " 

Evidently this reply was not at all satisfactory. The 
chiefs consulted together, and presently their answer came 
back, through the interpreter. 

"We did appeal to the Emperor of Russia, but he gave 
us no redress. Perhaps he was too poor. We know that 
he was poor, because he had to sell his land to the * Great 
Tyee.' But now the ' Great Tyee ' is here in his stead. 
And we want to know what he is going to do about it? " 

Seward conferred with General Davis, and then asked: 

"How many men were murdered?" 

"Three," was the response. 

"And what sort of redress do you yourselves desire?" 

There was a visible brightening up in the faces of the 
Indians at this. They consulted as before, and presently 
came their reply : 

"A life for a life is the Indian law, and always has been. 
But as these three Chilkats were of the chief's family, we 
reckon each of their lives to be equal to the lives of three 
common Indians. What we want, then, is the Great 
Tyee's permission to send our warriors down to kill nine 



388 The "Great Tyee" in Alaska 

of the Kalosh (Sitkas) in order to avenge the death of the 
Chilkats." 

To this, Seward replied with promptness, that it was not 
to be thought of. No killing would be allowed. He then 
asked, 

"Is there any other form of reparation that you think 
might be made?" 

The faces of the Indians beamed with satisfaction, when 
this was translated to them. It began to look like 
business. They consulted as usual, and answered: 

"We know that the 'Boston men' are averse to any kill- 
ing except by their own soldiers. So we have sometimes 
consented to take pay in blankets. We think the life of 
each Indian is worth about four blankets. Nine times four 
blankets, — if the 'Great Tyee' chooses to give them to us, 
would be full redress, and make our hearts glad; and we 
should then regard the Sitkas as our friends and brothers. " 

"Well, General," said Seward, "there you have the 
conclusion of the case. I think you can afford to give 
thirty-six blankets, to make peace between the tribes. 
Shall I tell them you will send them up?" 

The General was very well pleased, as this would end 
the last of the Indian disputes, and establish peace 
throughout the territory. He thought it advisable, how- 
ever, to give the adjustment greater dignity and effect, 
by requiring the Chilkats to appoint commissioners to 
proceed to Sitka, and there receive the blankets, and at the 
same time exchange tokens of amity with the Sitkas. 

This arrangement proved highly satisfactory all round. 
The Chilkats, who hitherto could not venture into the 
region occupied by their enemies, were glad of an oppor- 
tunity to visit Sitka, see its wonders, and make friends 
with its Indians. 

So the meeting broke up with mutual congratulations. 
The climax was added to the general rejoicing, when the 



The ''Great Tyee" in Alaska 389 

Chilkat chiefs were invited to row down to the Activef 
and dine there with the General and the "Great Tyee. " 

Toward evening they arrived, in their brightly coloured 
and gaily decorated canoes. 

On board the ship, the stewards and cook had been 
busily at work, to meet the responsibilities imposed on 
them. Soon a banquet was spread, bewildering in its 
variety, considering the limited resources of the ship's 
larder, and lavish in its quantity, since all who were to 
partake of it were blessed with good appetites. 

The cabin was too small to accommodate the whole 
company; but it was entirely in accordance with Indian 
usage that the six chiefs should sit in state at the cabin 
table, while their wives and attendant warriors gathered 
on deck round the open skylight, through which the viands 
were passed out to them, while they had full view of the 
proceedings below. 

On deck there was merriment with the feasting. In the 
cabin all was grave and decorous, with little conversation 
until the principal courses had been disposed of. After 
the exchange of various information about the territory 
and government, Seward inquired if there was anything 
further that the chiefs would like to ask? 

They consulted according to their wont, and presently 
answered through their interpreter, that they would like 
to have the "Great Tyee" tell them about the eclipse. 

Seward accordingly proceeded to explain the phe- 
nomenon, in the simplest language possible, using as il- 
lustrations the cabin lamp to represent the sun, and an 
orange and an apple to represent earth and moon. When 
he had finished, he inquired if the chiefs had understood 
his explanation? 

After conference as before, the reply came back : 

"The chiefs have understood much though not all the 
* Great T yee ' has told them. They understand him as 



390 The Guest of a Nation 

saying that the eclipse was produced by the Great Spirit 
and not by men. Since he says so, they will believe it. 
They have noticed, however, that the Great Spirit gener- 
ally does whatever the 'Boston men' want him to." 

With this shrewd comment on ethics, astronomy, and 
human nature, the feast came to an end. 

1869. 

The Guest of a Nation. Regarding him as the chief 
defender of the Mexicans in their long struggle with the 
European Powers, the Mexican Government had cordially 
invited my father to visit their country, see the people 
whom he had befriended, and accept their hospitalities. 
Now that he was free from official cares and was travelling 
so near their frontiers the invitation was renewed. 

On the 30th of September, the Golden City was steaming 
out through the Golden Gate. My father and his party 
were on board. On the voyage down the coast, it was a 
daily surprise to find how the usual discomforts of sea 
travel are mitigated on the tranquil Pacific. The great 
steamer moved on even keel, over waters hardly ruffled, 
and through continual sunshine. Her spacious cabins 
and airy staterooms rose in successive tiers, and were 
"steady as a church." Her decks presented an aspect 
like that of a summer hotel. Under the broad awnings 
were groups of gentlemen smoking, children playing, and 
ladies chatting, reading, and embroidering. There was 
no noise or hurry. Chinese sailors, with placid faces, 
moved quietly about, while the officers pacing the deck 
and glancing around the horizon seemed to find nothing to 
order, and nothing to alter. 

Cruising along the Coast of Lower California for a couple 
of days, and approaching the shores of Jalisco, the voyage 
was without incident except the meeting and exchange of 
news with the steamer Montana. Then, crossing the gulf 



The Guest of a Nation 391 

and approaching the shore, they were reminded that they 
had passed out of a temperate cHmate into a tropical one, 
and out of a dry season into a wet one. A strong warm 
rain was pouring down, and it accompanied them into the 
harbour of Manzanillo, where they were to debark and 
enter Mexico. 

Landing at Manzanillo at sunrise, they were received 
and welcomed by Sefiors Luis Rendon, and Jacinto Canedo 
on behalf of the Mexican Government, and by Governor 
Cueva of the State of Colima. Citizens had come down 
from Colima to join in the greeting ; among them some of 
the merchants and Dr. Morrill, the United States Consul. 

Two days of driving rain kept them at Manzanillo, but 
they were comfortably lodged and hospitably cared for. 
Meanwhile a telegraphic dispatch came from President 
Juarez and his Cabinet welcoming my father to the country 
and wishing him a pleasant journey to the capital. 

On the morning of the third day the sky cleared. Under 
the direction of the Mexican officers, five large boats carry- 
ing the national colours were in readiness to take the party 
and their baggage up Lake Cayutlan. 

The landscape was i)icturesque and tropical, the lake 
smooth and glassy, the shores covered with dense growths 
of trees, among which could be seen the palm, the cypress, 
and the guayava. Here and there was an alligator bask- 
ing in the sun or a flamingo wading in the marsh, while 
flocks of parrots flew screaming overhead. 

Midway on the trip a pause was made for breakfast, in 
the friendly shade of a thicket. 

Arriving at the end of the lake, stages and mules were 
found waiting. The afternoon was spent in a ride over 
muddy roads and swollen streams through luxuriant 
tropical vegetation. Another pause for dinner with Don 
Ignacio Largos, whose house, built of cane, allowed free 
circulation of air in every direction. Evening brought 



392 The Guest of a Nation 

the party to the great hacienda of Don Juan Firmin 
Huarte. 

Through the open doorway came a blaze of light and a 
swarm of attendants. Then followed a hearty and hospit- 
able welcome from the owner of La Calera, a native of 
Old Spain, genial, polished, and enterprising. 

Here Sunday was passed. Then the journey was re- 
sumed. This time it was to be only from the country to 
the city home of Don Juan, but this involved a climb over 
mountains, chasms, and torrents. Rising gradually from 
the coast the road wound through successive gorges. Just 
at nightfall, the travellers looking back had their last 
glimpse of the Pacific. 

It was after midnight when they reached the silent 
deserted streets of the ancient Spanish-looking town of 
Colima. The watchman was crying "Dos horas y todo 
bueno" when they knocked at the massive gate and were 
ushered into the spacious court of Senor Huarte' s home. 

Life in Colima at Senor Huarte' s was full of contrast to 
the scenes left behind in the United States. 

One seemed to have stepped not only into another clime, 
but into another century. Within doors, the Moorish 
arches, pillars, and frescoes, the glazed tile floors, the grand 
salon and stairway decked with masses of bright flowers 
and glossy foliage, were suggestive of Seville or Granada. 

Looking out from the carved stone balconies, or through 
the iron-latticed windows, one saw strongly built houses 
in mediaeval style, quaint little shops, ruins of church and 
palace, plazas with stone seats and fountains, and passers- 
by, peasants, priests, soldiers, and women, in costumes gay 
or sombre, such as were worn two hundred years ago. At 
every corner a group such as Murillo loved to paint. Now 
and then a well mounted cavalier, glittering with arms 
and ornaments; or a lady with her duenna, whose black 
dress, lace veil, and prayer-book showed her to be on the 



The Guest of a Nation 393 

way to mass. Heavy carts and patient little donkeys 
plodded along with marketing or merchandise. No rail- 
way whistle, no telegraph poles, no gas-lamps, no carriages, 
no boy with the morning papers. 

Three days were passed in Colima. There were dinners 
and festivities at the mansion, and a christening at the 
parish church, aroimd whose doorway stood a hundred 
children eagerly crying "Padrino, mi medio!" in accord- 
ance with the old superstition that a sixpence from the 
hand of a new godfather is sure to bring good luck. 

But the crowning event at Colima was a ball and ban- 
quet at the palace, in honour of Senor Seward's visit. Ball- 
room, corridor, galleries, and arches were brilliant with 
tropical plants and Oriental illuminations. Green, red, 
and white, the national colours, were everywhere. The 
flags of the United States and Mexico hung side by side. 
A portrait of Juarez at one end of the hall, and of Seward 
at the other, were wreathed with flags and laurel. 

Among the ladies and gentlemen there was every type 
of the blended Aztec and Spanish races, the Castilian 
predominating. Quadrilles and waltzes were followed 
by the favourite national danza, whose music has a 
measured cadence and soft plaintive melody suited to a 
tropical clime. 

At the banquet. Governor Cueva addressed "the emi- 
nent statesman who presented a barrier to the irrup- 
tion of those who sought to sow in our soil the obnoxious 
seeds of the old continent. " He closed by saying: 

"I salute you in the name of the Mexican people, and 
offer you its friendship as sincerely as you have been a 
true and sincere friend to the government and people of 
this nation who applaud and bless you." 

Seward made due acknowledgment. In his reply he 
said that one additional principle remained to be adopted 
to secure the success of the Republican system : it was that 



394 The Guest of a Nation 

"the several American Republics, while abstaining from 
intervention with each other, shall become more than ever 
heretofore political friends." 

A day or two were spent in visiting the cotton mills, and 
the gardens filled with palms, bananas, cocoanuts, coffee, 
orange, and lemon trees. 

On the morning of departure the escort sent down by 
the government of the State had arrived, and were drawn 
up in line at the gate. They were a fine-looking body of 
one hundred cavalrymen, well mounted and armed. 

As the journey for the next two days would be through 
the barrancas, which are impassable for carriages, 
handsome Spanish horses and sure-footed mules were 
brought, equipped with the comfortable Mexican saddles, 
for the use of each of the party. Trunks, baggage, bed- 
ding, and supplies were strapped on the backs of eighteen 
pack mules, under the guidance of a muleteer. Sefior 
Huarte, whose thoughtful care for his guest extended to 
every detail, had provided a palanquin for Seward's use, 
in case he should prefer it. Several of the gentlemen 
from Colima accompanied him through the barrancas to 
the cities beyond. Altogether the cavalcade was about 
two hundred in number. Nothing could be more pic- 
turesque than its winding progress, up and down, through 
the passes of the Sierra Madre — the soldiers with gay 
uniforms, streaming pennons, and flashing arms, the cava- 
liers with broad sombreros and bright red sashes, belted, 
and armed to the teeth, and mounted on prancing steeds, 
the ladies, on easy pacing palfreys, whose trappings were 
ornamented with silver, and the long train of laden mules, 
climbing the steep acclivities in obedience to the mule- 
teer's whistle. Still more like a medieval scene it looked 
when passers-by from the opposite direction, travellers 
similarly mounted, trains of mules with merchandise, 
peasants and soldiers, priests and nuns, would greet them 



The Guest of a Nation 395 

with courteous salutation or blessing, "Yaya con Dios, 
Caballero, " "Dios guarde usted. " 

The wild landscape, the ancient-looking roadway, the 
grey walls and battlements of the distant haciendas, peer- 
ing out through the glossy green foliage, all seemed ap- 
propriate accessories. When, at noon or nightfall, the 
bugler, at some heavily-barred, stone-ttirreted gateway, 
sounded a parley, and asked leave to enter, it was like a 
chapter out of Scott's novels, or a page from the adventure 
of Don Quixote de la Mancha. 

The barrancas are huge valleys or gorges, formed by 
the action of mountain torrents. Some of them are five 
hundred feet deep, others one thousand or one thousand 
five hundred. Up and down their steep precipitous sides 
runs the zigzag mule path, partially paved, but needing 
constant repair. A dense growth of trees and vines clings 
to the slope, where it can find a foothold. At the bottom 
of the valley, a stone bridge spans the little stream, which 
in the rainy season becomes a roaring flood, making havoc 
and devastation. One of the Californians in the party 
likened them to "minor Yosemites, " and found in the 
great "Barranca de Beltran" a counterpart of Church's 
Heart of the Andes. 

A very considerable traffic goes through these mountain 
roads. The travellers met many trains of one or two hun- 
dred mules, and estimated that, in a day, they saw two 
thousand. They carry up from the tierra caliente sugar, 
rice, and tropical fruits, and bring down from the temper- 
ate region above, earthenware, soap, and other manu- 
factured articles. 

At Tonila, the travellers dined with the venerable 
Governor Vega. At night they were to sleep at the great 
hacienda of San Marcos, at the foot of the volcano of 
Colima, over whose crater hung a sluggish cloud of smoke 
by day — a dull red glow by night. It was after dark when 



396 The Guest of a Nation 

they arrived there. The lighted torches borne by the 
soldiers, as they came up the mountain defile, were met by 
a similar procession from the hacienda, making a scene 
of wild and weird beauty. It is commonly supposed that 
the Castilian phrase, Esta casa es a la disposicion de 
usted, is but a hospitable flourish. But at San Marcos, 
and, indeed, everywhere that he went, Seward found it 
to be, not a mere compliment, but an actual truth. The 
owner of the mansion literally gave his house, with its 
servants, furniture, and equipage, to his guests, for them 
to live in, and do what they pleased with, so long as they 
chose to stay. At every city he visited in Mexico, Seward 
found "his own house" ready and waiting for him. 

The last barranca, that of Atenquiqui, was passed on the 
afternoon of the 15th. A rest of an hour or two, in a cane 
hut by the wayside, was taken, preparatory to entering 
the comfortable Concord stage-coach, drawn by six mules, 
in which the rest of the journey was to be made. In the 
evening, as they approached the town of Zapotlan, they 
found it brilliantly illuminated from one end to the other, 
in honour of the festival of San Jose. Here was another 
hospitable reception; and then a leave-taking of the 
friends who had accompanied them from Colima, except 
Senor Canedo, who had charge of the party as far as 
Guadalajara. 

In the morning a stroll through the plaza and streets, 
a look at church, market, fountains, and convent ruins, 
substantial residences and pretty gardens. 

Then on the road again, through a landscape showing 
the different altitude and climate now attained — the palm 
and sugar cane having given place to the maguey, and the 
mesquite to corn fields and orchards. Everywhere, lofty 
mountain ranges bounded the prospect ; while near at hand 
were the cane huts, with cactus hedges, the fields of corn 
and beans and barley, with here and there the tree-cotton, 



The Guest of a Nation 397 

the castor bean, and the coffee tree. Long stretches of 
uninhabited, unciiltivated plains were covered with tall 
grass, or with a profusion of wild flowers — among which 
the travellers recognized many that, at the North, are 
carefully cultivated in garden or greenhouse. Calla lilies 
were growing in the ditches at the roadside. Zinneas, 
verbenas, and marigolds were weeds in the fields. Tall 
pink and spotted lilies, and gay striped convolvulus 
appeared among the grass here, as buttercups and daisies 
do at the North. 

Only one ominous feature showed itself in the smiling 
landscape. Rude black wooden crosses, surrounded by 
piles of stones, appeared at frequent intervals; each mark- 
ing the spot where some victim had met a bloody death. 

The shores of Lake Chapala offered a beautiful view. 
It was like Lake George or Seneca, but without the houses 
and without the boats. In lieu of other inhabitants, there 
were flocks of cranes, plover, ducks, and other water-fowl, 
of varied and brilliant plumage. 

Everywhere, the houses of brick and stone and stucco 
were clustered together in villages, for mutual protection. 
Each village had its church, its plaza and fountain, its 
dwellings of massive masonry, with flat roofs, broad win- 
dows, airy balconies, and paved court-yards, as if they 
had been transplanted but yesterday from Old Spain. 
Three-fourths of all the people seemed of unmixed Indian 
blood; the rest resembled their Spanish progenitors. But 
the word "Indian" in Mexico is applied to a race widely 
different from the savages of the United States. In 
Mexico they are civilized and Christian people, neat, in- 
telligent, and industrious, kind-hearted and affectionate. 

The labourers in town and country would be met on the 
road, contentedly trudging to market, with long wicker 
baskets strapped on their backs, containing their scanty 
produce. Many, as if to lose no time, were busy knit- 



398 The Guest of a Nation 

ting, embroidering, or plaiting straw, as they walked 
along. 

On each day's journey Seward was greeted with new and 
varied forms of hospitality and kindness. At Sayula he 
was met by a cavalcade of a hundred gentlemen, accom- 
panied by ladies in their carriages. He was escorted into 
the town amid the ringing of church bells and the firing of 
cannon. There was a banquet with speeches, visits to 
schools that would compare favourably with those of 
New England, and churches that eclipse any that the 
Pilgrims would tolerate. There was a ball in the evening, 
and a serenade with harp, guitar, and violin. At Zacoalco 
there was a similar reception and welcome. 

At Techaluta, a little village of cane huts, a band of 
Indian boys, playing the national anthem, escorted the 
carriage through the single street. There was not a flag 
in the place; but the poor people had decorated the fronts 
of their houses with bright-coloured blankets, shawls, and 
scarfs, bits of gay ribbon, and whatever finery they 
possessed. Each family stood in their doorway, with un- 
covered heads, to say "God bless you," "Vaya con Dios, 
Senor, " "Dios guarde usted, " "Mil gracias, Sefior," — 
"Adios." 

As the carriage passed the last houses, and the musicians 
ceased, a tall, swarthy Indian stepped forward, threw a 
roll of paper into the carriage, and, with a profound obeis- 
ance, withdrew. Unrolling and reading the scroll, Seward 
found it was addressed "To the great Statesman of the 
great Republic of the North — Techaluta is poor, but she 
is not ungrateful!" 

At Tepetitlan they arrived after dark. But the town 
was brilliant with bonfires, torches, and fire balls, while 
the air was filled with strains of music from unseen instru- 
ments, and the merry peals of chimes from all the churches. 
Everywhere there were addresses of welcome, long or short, 



The Guest of a Nation 399 

but all marked by good taste and deep feeling. Every- 
where, tables were loaded with the fruits and dishes of the 
country, of every variety, from the national frijoles and 
tortillas, to the most elaborate dukes and pasteles that 
skilled ingenuity could contrive. 

Cordially as he had been invited and welcomed by the 
government of Mexico, Seward was hardly prepared for 
the warmth and depth of popular feeling which he every- 
where encountered. Mexicans, of whatever ancestry or 
party, are intensely patriotic ; and they were determined to 
show their appreciation of one who had stood by their 
country in its hour of trial. 

Passing Santa Ana Acatlan, San Augustin and Sant' 
Anita, the drivers unharnessed the six tired little mules 
and put before the coach six milk-white horses, with re- 
splendent trappings, for the entry into the great city of 
Guadalajara, whose white spires and towers were shining 
in the distance. Three miles before reaching the city, 
there came out a long line of carriages and horsemen, with 
the Municipal Council and State officials, to welcome 
Seward to the capital of the State of Jalisco. His entry 
into the city was an ovation. The streets were lined with 
carriages; the sidewalks crowded; windows, doors, and 
housetops occupied ; the ladies waving their handkerchiefs ; 
the men shouting Vivas! and hurrahs ; and the whole scene 
replete with excitement and enthusiasm. 

At the door of a stately house, the procession paused. 
The keys were presented to Seward ; and he was informed 
that it was his own. It was thoroughly appointed and 
furnished; the table was spread for a banquet; and there 
was a corps of trained servants at command. Drawing- 
room and dining-room opened upon a marble-paved court- 
yard. As the tired travellers sat under its spacious arched 
and frescoed corridors, by the mellow light of shaded lamps 
listening to the plashing of fountains and the tinkling of 



400 The Guest of a Nation 

guitars, they appreciated the satisfaction of Hassan 
Bedreddin, when, after a hard day's work, he suddenly 
woke up and found himself Cahph. 

Seward's first act, when left alone, was to sit down and 
write a kindly letter of acknowledgment to the people of 
Techaluta, whose welcome touched him deeply. 

A week was spent in Guadalajara, driving through its 
spacious avenues and well-built streets, and on its beauti- 
ful Paseo; looking at its majestic Cathedral with costly 
adornments, and its scores of ancient and modern churches; 
strolling through the luxiu-iant foliage of its Alameda, 
and the profusion of fruits and flowers in its markets; 
visiting its palaces and public offices ; studying its prisons 
and benevolent institutions; its great Hospital of San 
Miguel de Belan, for the treatment of every form of human 
ailment; its Hospicio, where hundreds of orphans and 
foundlings are sheltered and trained to lives of usefulness. 
A day spent in visiting the public schools was full of sur- 
prises. Some of the buildings were the old convents, and 
replete with memories of the sixteenth and seventeenth 
centuries. But the schools themselves exhibited the 
highest progress of the nineteenth. Senor Matute, one 
of the chief officers of the municipal government, explained 
that commissioners had been sent abroad to study the 
schools of other countries. So Guadalajara had adopted a 
system combining the best features found in Boston, New 
York, and Philadelphia, as well as in Paris, Copenhagen, 
and Stockholm. Study of books was combined with 
training in arts, sciences, and trades. In the recitation- 
rooms the children showed as much proficiency as in the 
United States. In other rooms were four hundred boys, 
learning blacksmithing, carpentering, weaving, and tailor- 
ing. In the needle-work rooms the girls were sewing, 
knitting, and copying oil-paintings in silk embroidery. 
At the boys' High School was a band of one hundred 



The Guest of a Nation 401 

musicians, all schoolboys, who had earned their own 
instruments. At the music hall of the girls' High School, 
the pupils were giving the opera of Ernani. Gymnasi- 
ums, art-galleries, laboratories, and libraries were among 
the adjuncts of the schools. 

On coming out from their inspection, Seward remarked, 
"Why do people talk of a 'Protectorate' for a country 
capable of such things as these?" 

Citizens, officials, and associations vied in their hospi- 
talities to the national guest. Preparations were making 
for a ball to be given in his honour at the hall of the State 
Congress. The Academy of Sciences presented him with 
a certificate of honourary membership, in which he was 
styled "Defender of the Liberty of the Americas." He 
was presented also, as a memento of his visit, with the 
original royal proclamation of Charles II., of 1676 — a 
parchment yellow with age, but plainly showing the 
signature, in a bold round hand, of Yo el Key. 

One evening was spent at a representation of Rl Valle 
de Andorra. The opera house was a spacious and hand- 
some edifice, with massive walls, holding an audience of 
four thousand, and having five tiers of boxes, each box 
having its own distinct entrance, dressing, and refresh- 
ment-room. 

"Theatres never burn down in this country?" asked 
one of the visitors. 

"Never," was the reply of a Mexican gentleman, "how 
could they?" 

Another gentleman remarked that he was much sur- 
prised, on his first visit to the United States, at being told 
not to throw a match on the floor, as it might set the house 
on fire. " Burn a house with a match ! " said he ; " I never 
heard of such a thing!" 

With walls of thick masonry, tiled floors and roofs, with 
no lath or plaster, no shingling or planking, houses in 
36 



402 The Guest of a Nation 

Mexican cities are practically fire-proof. It was said 
that the little old hand-engines were all that was ever 
needed; and that there was not an insurance company in 
the Republic, till the French invaders introduced the 
fashion. 

The ball brought together a brilliant and fashionably- 
dressed assemblage of all political parties. The fine hall 
of the State Congress was used as a ball-room; while the 
tables were set in the decorated corridors surrounding the 
illuminated patio — a feature of Spanish architecture 
admirably adapted for entertainments. Spanish beauty 
and Aztec grace were exemplified in the Senoras and 
Sefioritas; and in Mexico, even men dance gracefully. 

It was two o'clock in the morning, when Governor 
Cuervo, at the supper-table, announced that the hour had 
come for the addresses of welcome. Sefiors Matute and 
Jones spoke in terms of enthusiastic greeting. 

Seward, in his [speech of acknowledgment, alluded to 
his hope for the North American States, and the Spanish 
American Republics, in the creation of a policy of mutual 
moral alliance, to the end that external aggression may be 
prevented, and internal peace, law and order, and progress 
be secured throughout the whole continent. 

Governor Cuervo responded with hearty assent to that 
"Great Continental American policy, " and said that, as a 
patriot, he should devote all his efforts to its realization. 

One of the subjects under discussion by the municipal 
authorities, at this period, was the question of abolishing 
the bull-fights. The custom was linked with so many 
traditions of the nation and the race, and was so intrenched 
in popular favour, that it would be difficult to put a stop 
to it. Nevertheless, progressive and public-spirited men 
in Guadalajara were urging its abandonment. Of coiurse, 
Seward heartily agreed with them. However, it was urged 
that he should first attend a funcion, see the performance 



The Guest of a Nation 403 

and audience, and then give his unbiased judgment for or 
against its continuance. The great amphitheatre, packed 
with thousands of the people of Guadalajara, of every age, 
rank, and station, was a fine spectacle. Seward had 
assigned to him the chair of honour. The gaily dressed 
line of matadors, picadors, banderilleros, and chulos, 
marched up before him, to make their opening salute, in 
accordance with the custom, centuries old, of the gladia- 
tors, who, in the Coliseum, used to say: "Te, Caesar, mori- 
turi salutamus!" 

But bull-fights and their audiences have been so often 
described that the scene needs no repetition here. Suffice 
it to say, "five valiant bulls were fought, " and four "done 
to the death"; and that, while the audience enjoyed it as 
they would a circus, the American travellers found it 
bloody, cruel, and only less brutal than the prize-fights 
in their own land. Their sympathies were less moved 
than they expected for either the bull or his assailants, 
since both seemed to court the blows they received. But 
the poor horses, blindfolded, and forced into a combat in 
which they had no interest, exposed to all the danger and 
having none of the escapes or triumphs, were the real 
sufferers. It was a pleasure to learn subsequently that the 
progressive party in the City Council carried their humane 
purpose into effect by a majority vote. 

At Guadalajara, Sefior Jacinto Canedo took his leave. 
He had accompanied the party from Colima, and they 
regretted to lose his cheerful companionship and guidance. 
He now returned to resume his official duties at Colima. 
Don Luis G. Bossero, the commissioner appointed by the 
general government, had arrived and took charge of the 
travelling arrangements. Formerly in the Diplomatic 
Corps at Washington, he spoke English fluently and 
perfectly. His tact, courtesy, and knowledge of affairs 
were invaluable. Under his care the eastward trip was 



404 The Guest of a Nation 

resumed on the morning of Tuesday, the 26th, in a coach 
sent down from the city of Mexico, drawn by eight mules 
and escorted by a large detachment of cavalry. 

The incidents of the following week were like those of the 
preceding ones — the same warm-hearted hospitality and 
enthusiastic greetings in the villages and cities successively 
visited, but with an ever-changing panorama of beautiful 
scenery, and ever-varying objects of historic and poetic 
interest. At the suburb of San Pedro they parted with the 
Guadalajara friends who had come out so far to bid them 
good-bye. At Zapotlanejo they saw the fine old church, 
and the barricades and bullet-marks of the recent war. 
At El Puente de Calderon they saw the great stone bridge 
where Padre Hidalgo, with eighty thousand men, struck 
the blow for national independence in 181 1. At Jalos 
they found a quaint old city, embowered with trees, with 
a magnificent church building. At Venta de Los Pajaros 
they spent the night at a hacienda, fortified to resist 
bandits or revolutionists, and provided with a military 
forpe of several hundred strong, mustered and organized 
by Senor Perez, the owner. At San Juan de los Lagos 
they saw the Cathedral — one of the finest in Mexico. The 
townspeople were making preparations to celebrate the 
centennial anniversary of its consecration. At Lagos, a 
city of twelve thousand people, was another great church, 
whose specialty was the possession of the remains of a 
Saint, brought from Rome eighty years before. The road 
in this vicinity passed among the numerous small lakes, 
from which the town takes its name. The fields, fenced 
in with the tall " Organo" cactus, had the grains and fruits 
of a temperate clime. At each of these towns there was a 
deputation of mounted citizens to meet Seward at the gates. 
There was the house provided for his reception and use. 
There were addresses of welcome, serenades, and banquets. 

Like greeting awaited him at Leon. Here was the 



The Guest of a Nation 405 

novelty of the festival of Todos Santos (All Saints), the 
plaza being illuminated and surrounded with booths for 
the sale of fruits, flowers, and the curious bon-bon con- 
fections in the form of skulls, angels, devils, birds, and 
fishes, which are deemed appropriate for gifts and memen- 
toes of the day. In the morning, the city, seen from the 
upper windows, seemed like a garden, the flat roofs of the 
houses in all directions being covered with a profusion of 
flowering plants in full bloom. 

At Guanajuato they found another old and important 
city, the capital of a state. Resembling Guadalajara in 
architecture, it was widely different in site and surround- 
ings. Built in the midst of mountains, with streets 
following the ascent of hills or the curve of ravines, some 
of its quaint and unexpected turns were suggestive of 
Quebec. Massive masonry and heavy embankments 
ever3rwhere gave it a solid, substantial look. Its hand- 
some residences and terraced gardens added to its beauty 
and attested the wealth of its silver mines, which are 
among the richest in Mexico. 

Seward was met and escorted up to the city through 
the canon of Marfil. Received and cordially welcomed 
by Governor Antillon and others in authority, he was 
shown to a new and handsome house prepared for his 
occupancy, was presented with the keys, and duly in- 
stalled therein. 

A week was spent in visiting Guanajuato's ancient 
Cathedral and numerous churches, its elaborate and 
substantial water-works, its residences and terraces, its 
fine theatre and busy mint, its historic castle, which 
Hidalgo and his Mexican followers besieged and stormed 
in 1810, and which the Spaniards recaptured in 181 1, 
hanging the heads of Hidalgo and his three associates on 
its four comers. There they remained until the national 
independence was achieved in 1823, when they were buried 



4o6 The Guest of a Nation 

with the honours due to martyrs for patriotism. Now 
occupied by court -rooms and prisons, the edifice looked 
new enough and strong enough to stand another siege. 

Among the friends met here was Mr. Parkman, who 
had emigrated in his youth from Cayuga County; and, 
after various adventures in the mining region, had come 
to Guanajuato, married and settled, and had become a 
prosperous mine-owner. One of his daughters accepted 
an invitation to go with the party to the United States 
for a visit, and subsequently joined them at the city of 
Mexico. 

Accompanied by Mr. Parkman and others of the owners 
and superintendents of mines, Seward visited the shafts 
and tunnels of some of the principal ones, some in 
bonanza, and some in horrasca; was shown the various 
processes of getting out the ore and of "beneficiating" or 
extracting the silver from it. One of these mines, the 
Valenciano, discovered by the Spaniards shortly after the 
conquest, was said to have yielded $800,000,000, and when 
Humboldt visited it, he estimated that it was producing 
one fifth of all the silver in the world. A fine sight was that 
at "La Serena," where the party, standing in a tunnel 
four hundred feet below the surface, looked down six 
hundred feet farther, to the bottom of the shaft, which 
was illuminated by blazing fire balls thrown in at the top 
and rushing down like fiery comets. 

The day before departure there was a distribution of 
premiums at the College, followed by a soiree and ball. 

Leaving Guanajuato, the travellers proceeded along 
the mountain road ; pausing at midday at Salamanca, and 
spending the night at Celaya, where, for the first time in 
Mexico, they heard the sound of the steam whistle. It 
came from a woollen factory established there. Another 
of the modern enterprises there was an artesian well four 
hundred feet deep, supplying the city with pure water 



The Guest of a Nation 407 

thrown out in great jets, and having a temperature of 
100 degrees. 

On Wednesday they arrived at Queretaro, and were 
received at the city gate by a deputation of state and city 
officials and citizens. Addresses of welcome, letters, and 
visits were followed by a drive out to the great Rubio 
cotton factories standing in the suburbs, and named the 
"Hercules" and "La Purissima. " They were encircled 
by a high wall, and guarded by a uniformed military force 
maintained by the proprietors. 

The next day was a deeply interesting one. It was 
spent in visiting the historic spots connected with the 
final defeat and fall of Maximilian, and listening to the 
descriptions of those eventful scenes by their eye-witnesses. 
They pointed out the lines of fortification and siege, the 
field of battle, the stronghold of the old convent and 
church of La Cruz, where the imperial forces made their 
last desperate stand; the streets where the republicans 
under Escobedo made successful entrance, the spot where 
Maximilian was captured by Corona, the old monastery 
of Los Capuchinos where he was confined with Miramon 
and Mejia, the theatre where the court-martial sat, by 
which they were tried and condemned to death, and finally 
the "Cerro de las Campanas, " where they were executed. 

The sun was just setting as Seward ascended this hill. 
Standing by the side of the three black wooden crosses, 
which marked the spot of execution, and looking off toward 
the distant city, whose roofs and domes were fading into 
evening shadows, one could realize the feeling of the un- 
fortunate Archduke, who here expiated, w^th his life, his 
mistake of attempted "Empire." While contemplating 
the scene, a carriage drove up, containing some ladies 
clad in deep mourning, and with them the uncle of Mira- 
mon — "Tio Joaquin" — as the three prisoners had affec- 
tionately called him in the days of their captivity. The 



4o8 The Guest of a Nation 

scene was a touching and impressive one, as he stood there, 
with uncovered head, narrating to Seward, in low tones 
and with deep feeling, the incidents of the capture, the 
imprisonment, the trial, the farewell messages of the con- 
demned men to their friends, their wishes as to the dis- 
position of their remains, and their last utterances, as 
they stood up to receive the volley that ended their lives. 

Leaving Queretaro on the following day, the coach, 
with its mounted escort, proceeded over valley and plain 
and through passes in the Sierra, till it stopped for the 
night at San Juan del Rio. Another hospitable welcome, 
with addresses and music, greeted Seward's arrival. Here 
was the boundary line between the states of Queretaro 
and Mexico. 

Two days more were spent, chiefly among the rocky 
hills and roads that showed they were passing through the 
mountain chain surrounding the valley of Mexico. Here 
were great plantations of the maguey, in every stage of 
growth, and of its manufacture into the national beverage 
of pulque. The Mexicans were amused at hearing their 
northern guests give it the appellation of the "century 
plant," wondering why, since here tall stalks with white 
blossoms were visible every year in every field. 

'At Arroyo Sarco, high up in the mountains, where the 
stage stopped for the night, there was a fire on the hearth, 
"the only one you will see, or need, this winter. " 

Now came the long descent toward valley and plain, 
sometimes almost imperceptible, as the road wound 
through forests and fields, sometimes quickly and rapidly 
down some rocky declivity, but all the while downward 
and downward still. 

Emerging from woods and rocks, on Monday, the 15th, 
as the road wound along the mountainside, the travellers 
saw, gradually unfolding before them, one of the most 
magnificent panoramas of the world. The valley of 



The Guest of a Nation 409 

Mexico lay spread out in the mellow autumn sunshine, 
dotted here and there with white villages and sparkling 
lakes, and surrounded by the blue mountain range from 
which, high above the rest, rose the snow-clad cone of 
Popocatepetl. Far in the distance were the gleaming 
towers and spires of the city of Mexico. On one hand stood 
a steep hill crowned with the palace-like castle of Chapulte- 
pec. On the other was the clustering group of churches 
and chapels in Guadalupe Hidalgo. 

Down from the mountain, crossing the level plain, 
passing cultivated fields, long causeways, and suburban 
villages, the stage whirled on, till suddenly confronted, 
some miles from the city, by a brilliant welcoming party. 
Senor Lerdo de Tejada, the Minister of Foreign Affairs, 
Senor Romero, the Minister of Finance, and Mr. Nelson, 
the American Envoy, were waiting with carriages and a 
cavalry escort, to receive and take the party to the city. 
At the Garita de San Cosme the carriages paused again, 
for there stood President Juarez, with his wife and daugh- 
ter, come out to welcome the guest of the nation. The 
cordial greetings of old friendship were exchanged as the 
cavalcade rapidly went on through the streets past the old 
Alameda of Montezuma, and the great equestrian statue 
of Charles the Fourth, past stately churches, handsome 
dwellings and public edifices, to the corner of Alfaro and 
San Augustin Streets. 

An open gateway led into a patio lined with plants and 
flowers, and around it were the rooms of a charming house 
fitted up with luxury. President Juarez, with a smile and 
wave of his hand, said, "Mr. Seward, will it please you to 
enter your house? This is your home!" 

Certainly the kind friends who had prepared this home 
had spared no pains to give it every requisite for quiet 
comfort, or for social entertainment. Built in the favour- 
ite Spanish fashion, its large reception-, drawing-, and din- 



410 The Guest of a Nation 

ing-rooms looked out on the ornamental courtyard, whose 
galleries, draped with tropical foliage, offered a choice of 
sun or shade. Furnished and decorated in accordance 
with modem European taste, it was supplied with a corps 
of servants and equipages to meet every possible wish. 
As if to remind him of home, two of Canova's statues on 
the main stairway were the same as those in the entrance 
hall of his house at Auburn. 

Visitors, Mexican, American, and European, came to 
proffer warm greetings and kindly offices. With some, it 
was the renewal of old friendship begun in Washington; 
with others, it was the opening of a new and agreeable 
acquaintance. It was especially pleasant to meet again 
the Juarez and Romero families. The members of the 
Cabinet called in a body. Military and civil officers, 
formal deputations and private citizens, all came to 
welcome the national guest, and made him feel that he 
was no stranger, but a well-remembered friend. 

A month was spent in this charming home. The city 
of Mexico has many places of historic interest. No day 
was allowed to pass by its hospitable people, without 
some agreeable excursion. The majestic Cathedral, the 
spacious Plaza, the curious Aztec Calendar Stone, the 
National Palace, with President, Cabinet, and Congress 
in the exercise of their official functions, the Museum, 
with its ancient Aztec memorials and bloody Sacrificial 
Stone, the Mint and Assay Offices, the School of Mines 
with its admirable equipment for educating miners, 
scientists, and engineers, the orderly and busy streets, the 
gaily ornamented shops, the massive old convents and 
beautiful churches, the Academy of Design, with paint- 
ings and sculpture that showed the Mexicans to have more 
natural taste and aptitude for the fine arts than their 
northern neighbours, the libraries with their treasures of 
rare and ancient volumes, the Monte de Piedad, whose 



The Guest of a Nation 411 

benevolent functions have gone on uninterruptedly during 
a century of wars and revolutions, the public institutions, 
and the private dwellings, all seemed to have a welcome 
for the nation's guest. 

Strolls through the beautiful Alameda, drives on the 
fashionable Paseo, and walks about the streets, with ever 
novel views of the distant and glistening summits of 
gigantic Popocatepetl, and his spouse Ixtaccihuatl, "the 
Woman in White," were followed by longer excursions 
about the city and its romantic suburbs. 

One of these drives was to look at the old cypress tree, 
under which Cortez is said to have taken refuge, on the 
"Noche Triste," after his bloody and disastrous battle in the 
city. Another was a visit to Tacubaya with its fine 
country seats, and to San Fernando with its historic 
graves. 

One day was spent in visiting Guadalupe Hidalgo, 
where thousands of Indians were congregated to hold 
their annual festival in honour of their patroness, "Our 
Lady of Guadalupe." A picture of the Virgin Mary, with 
Aztec dress and complexion, is enshrined there with 
reverence, as being of supernatural origin, and as com- 
memorating her aspect at the time when she appeared 
to Juan Diego. The tradition has built up a great town, 
with churches and convents, around the spot where he 
saw his vision. 

Another interesting day was spent in company with the 
Ministers of War and Finance and their families, in visiting 
the battlefields of Contreras, Churubusco, Chapultepec, 
Molino del Rey, and the Belen Gate, as well as the haci- 
enda of La Canada, a favourite resort of Maximilian. 
Then there were excursions by boat up the Grand Canal, 
to see the monument to Guatamozin, the famous "Float- 
ing Gardens," the "Rock Pifion," the warm springs, and 
the lakes Chalco and Tezcoco. 



412 The Guest of a Nation 

One morning, as the party were passing through a hall 
of the National Palace, an attendant threw open a side 
door and invited them to look in. A large room was 
piled full of the dusty, mouldering relics of the dead Em- 
pire — scarlet canopies, laced liveries, jewelled swords, 
gold and silver cups and vases, rods and maces of court 
ushers, belts and caps of imperial guards, royal portraits, 
chairs of state, battered statuary and broken monograms, 
furniture from throne and banquet rooms, costly trappings 
and useless rubbish, all thrown confusedly together as no 
longer of any service. It was like the property-room of a 
theatre, save that here the tragedy was a real one, and its 
insignia were of enormous cost. No sermon on the vanity 
of human greatness was ever preached, half so eloquent 
as that silent room! 

There was a round of festivities and hospitalities, public 
and private. There was a dinner at the United States 
Legation, followed by a ladies' reception. There was a 
dinner at Mr. Lerdo's and another at Mr. Romero's. 
There was a military parade of the regular troops. There 
was a gran funcion at the Circo de Chiarini, another at 
the Opera of Crispino e la Comare, and another at the 
Iturbide Theatre of La Cabana de Tom {Uncle Tom's 
Cabin). 

The 24th of November was spent with President Juarez 
and his family at the beautiful castle of Chapultepec, 
which had been fitted up with all the decorations and 
appliances of modern art as one of the imperial residences. 
The dinner was served in the great hall, and several hours 
were passed in looking at the state apartments, galleries, 
corridors and courtyards, fountains and gardens, terraces 
and groves, and in viewing the magnificent prospect. 
The golden-hued valley of Mexico stretched away in the 
sunshine; the white walls and towers of the city gleaming 
in the foreground, while in the remote distance loomed 



The Guest of a Nation 413 

up the snowy summits of the two mountain giants — 
Popocatepetl and the "Woman in White." 

On the 27th of November came a grand banquet at the 
National Palace, the invitations to which were issued by 
the Minister of Foreign Affairs, in the name of the Presi- 
dent of the Republic and ' ' in honour of William H. Seward." 
Four hundred guests, including all the chief officers of the 
government and the leading members of Congress, sat at 
the table — Juarez and Seward together at the head. Here, 
as at the other festive gatherings, music, toasts, and 
speeches prolonged the proceedings to a late hour. These 
were full of enthusiastic and affectionate references both 
to the United States and to Seward, One of the most 
eloquent of the orators was Senor Altamirario of Guerrero. 
He said: 

"This banquet is not to the foreign monarch, who, 
leaving his throne for travel, is received with official 
orations; nor to the conqueror, raising the cup to his lips 
with a bloody hand. It is the apostle of human rights, 
the defender of the dignity of America, and one of the 
venerable patriarchs of liberty, whom we welcome in our 
midst, and in honour of whom we decorate with flowers 
our Mexican homes. ... It is not merely Seward, the 
great statesman of the age. Premier of the United States. 
I see, and only wish to see in him, the friend of humanity, 
the enemy of slavery, and the liberator of the bondsman ! 
His heart, his thoughts, his whole life have been consumed 
in the task!" 

In his speech of acknowledgment Seward adverted to 
the crisis of 1861, when Slavery had taken up arms in 
alarm for its life, and had organized rebellion aiming at the 
dissolution of the Union : 

' ' The statesmen of Europe, with its press almost unan- 
imous, announced that the United States of America 
had ceased to exist as one whole sovereign and organized 



414 The Guest of a Nation 

nation. The Emperor of France, emboldened by the 
seeming prostration of the United States, landed invading 
armies at Vera Cruz and Acapulco and overran the terri- 
tories of Mexico, overthrowing all its republican institu- 
tions and establishing upon its ruins an European empire. 

"With the United States in anarchy, San Domingo re- 
established as a monarchy, and Mexico as an empire, it 
was unavoidable that republicanism must perish through- 
out the whole continent. ... In that hour of supreme 
trial, I thought I knew, better than the enemies of our 
cause, the resources, the energies, and the virtues of the 
imperilled nation. The United States became, for the 
first time, in sincerity and earnestness, the friend and 
ally of every other Republican State in America, and all 
the Republican States became, from that hour, the 
friends and allies of the United States. " 

On the 9th of December, came the grand ball at the 
National Theatre, which closed this series of hospitable 
demonstrations. The theatre was brilliantly lighted, and 
decorated from floor to roof with flowers, and with Mexi- 
can and American flags. Three thousand guests were 
present. After the opening quadrilles, there were waltzes 
and galops, but, most frequent of all, the favourite na- 
tional danza, with its soft, slow music, and its graceful 
movement — the dance of all others best adapted to a great 
ball, since it enables each guest to meet and exchange 
greetings with every other. 

The street by which the guests arrived and departed 
seemed to have changed into a great illuminated and 
decorated arcade. 

The time fixed for departure was now approaching. 
Farewell visits were made and exchanged. The day 
before leaving, there was a "last breakfast, " at the beauti- 
ful country seat of Mr. Barron at Tacubaya. Many and 
warm were the heartfelt expressions of affection and 



The Guest of a Nation 415 

regret that were exchanged with Mexican friends, on 
bidding adieu to them and to their historic city. 

And now the mode of travel was changed. Mexico's 
first railway had been completed from the city as far as 
Puebla, and a special train was in waiting to take Seward 
thither. He left Mexico on the i8th of December in the 
President's car, and was accompanied as far as the first 
station by Senors Lerdo, Romero, and Mejia of the Cabinet 
and their families. Luxurious and easy as was the car, it 
had one disadvantage as compared with the stagecoach 
in the mountains ; for it gave but passing glimpses, instead 
of intimate acquaintance, with the country traversed. 
The train whirled only too rapidly through Ometusco, 
Apam, San Juan, Tehuacan, and the battlefield of Cortez 
at Otumba. 

Reaching Puebla toward evening, after a run of one 
hundred and sixteen miles, they were welcomed by the 
Governor and the local authorities, and were lodged in the 
Bishop's Palace — that prelate having gone to Rome to 
attend the Ecumenical Conference. The Palace was a 
spacious and stately structure, with long suites of apart- 
ments for the accommodation or entertainment of clerical 
visitors, as well as the keeping of valuable records and 
works of art. Some of the walls and ceilings had been 
frescoed by modern artists. One, containing the doorway 
to the Bishop's sleeping-room, had been painted (through 
some religious or artistic whim) in exact imitation of the 
entrance to a grated prison cell. It was said that Maxi- 
milian, who occupied the room on his last visit to Puebla, 
started back and shook his head with a melancholy smile 
on seeing this ominous presage. 

Directly across the plaza was the great Cathedral, the 
largest and richest on the continent, and all around could 
be seen the towers and steeples of the churches and con- 
vents that attested the fidelity of Puebla to the ecclesiasti- 



4i6 The Guest of a Nation 

cal organization of which it had long been a stronghold. 
Besides these edifices, Puebla had other points of more 
modern interest, in its fortifications and battlefields, its 
buildings riddled and shattered by artillery during the 
war with the French. The victory won here by Zaragoza, 
on the 5th of May, has made the Cinco de Mayo a national 
holiday. 

One day was devoted to an excursion to Tlascala — a 
city three centuries old. Here was the capital of the Indian 
republic whose people became the allies of Cortez, and 
aided him in his war on Montezuma's empire and the final 
conquest of Mexico. Many buildings are still standing 
which date back to the time of the conquest. Among 
them is the church built by the Spaniards in 1529 — the 
first spot on the continent dedicated to Christian worship. 
The Governor of Tlascala and his staff met and welcomed 
Seward to the city, and taking him to the State Palace 
exhibited the antiquarian relics preserved with care — 
among them portraits of the "Conquistadores, " and of 
the Tlascalan allied chieftains, ancient documents bear- 
ing their signatures, Aztec weapons and musical instru- 
ments then in use, and the royal banner unfurled by Cortez, 
faded and worn, but still nearly whole. 

Another interesting trip was to Cholula, to visit the 
celebrated pyramid, whose origin was in some remote age 
before the days of historians. As the carriage approached 
the town, its people were seen gathering in the plaza; while 
a hundred church bells were chiming forth a welcome. 
Ascending to the top of the pyramid by the winding path- 
way, paved with lava, they found there the old Spanish 
church, standing on the ruins of the still older heathen 
temple devoted to human sacrifices. 

The Prefecto and other authorities received Seward 
with addresses and a collation. One of the incidents of the 
feast was the appearance of a band of musicians, attired 



The Guest of a Nation 417 

in the costumes and playing upon the ancient instruments 
the wild and plaintive melodies of their Aztec ancestors. 

In his speech, Seward said: 

"The scene around me seems like one to awaken momen- 
tary inspiration. I am on the steps of the Aztec Pyramid 
which is one of the most stupendous altars of human 
sacrifice ever erected to propitiate the Deity, in the ages 
when He was universally understood to be a God of 
vengeance. Around me lies that magnificent plain, where 
an imperial savage throne was brought down to the dust, 
and I am surrounded by Christian churches and altars. 

"After a long contest with monarchial and imperial 
ambitions, the independence of the ancient Aztec race 
has been reconquered, without the loss of the Christian 
religion, and consolidated in a representative Federal 
Republic. Witnesses of towering majesty and impressive 
silence are looking down upon me — La Malinche, bewilder- 
ing, because she is so indistinct, and the volcanoes of 
Popocatepetl, Ixtaccihuatl, and Orizaba, clad in their 
eternal vestments of snow, attest that nature remains 
unchangeable, and only men, nations, and races are 
subject to revolution." 

Returned to Puebla the party were entertained at a 
banquet by Governor Romero y Vargas, at which forty 
or fifty guests were present. On the morning of the 23d 
they bade adieu. The Governor and his staff accom- 
panied them as far as Tepeaca, where they stopped for 
breakfast. Then they proceeded on their way in a stage 
escorted by a detachment of the neatly uniformed Rural 
Guard of Puebla — the railway to Vera Cruz not being yet 
completed. It was fortunate for them that it was not, 
for then they would have missed the majestic scenery of 
Las Cumbres and Aculzingo, where the road descends 
from the temperate plateau above to the torrid plain 
below — six thousand feet — in ten miles. Gazing at the 



4i8 The Guest of a Nation 

apparently illimitable prospect of mountains, canons, 
cascades, precipices, and plains, a Califomian remarked 
with a sigh, "Until today I thought that nothing could 
beat the Yosemite!" 

They arrived at the quaint old city of Orizaba on Christ- 
mas eve. Horsemen and carriages were in waiting at the 
gates, city authorities with the ever-pleasant and welcome 
greeting, and a large and handsome house ready for 
occupancy. Ten days were spent in Orizaba, enlivened 
by the festivities of the Christmas season. Many usages 
and customs with which a devout race has surrounded it 
were new to the American travellers. Then there were 
fine old churches, handsome fruit gardens, and modem 
factories to be visited. Many localities were pointed out 
that had been the scenes of incidents of the French in- 
vasion, or of the war with the United States, crumbling 
fortifications, deserted camp grounds, and battered walls. 
The front of one church bore so many scars of battle, 
marks of bullets and of cannon balls, that inquiry was 
made "when that fierce fight occurred?" The bystander 
to whom the question was addressed shrugged his shoul- 
ders, and said he did not remember; ''Es costumhre del 
pais, senor/' (It is the custom of the country, sir!) 

Magnificent scenery surrounds Orizaba, whose promi- 
nent feature, everywhere visible, is the high, conical snow- 
capped peak which bears its name. 

Leaving Orizaba on the 4th of January, they overtook 
and passed a procession peculiar to Mexico. This was a 
great conducta — a train of more than forty carts laden 
with thousands of dollars in specie, for export. Each cart 
was drawn by fourteen to eighteen mules, and the whole 
were guarded by a force of eight hundred government 
troops. The conducta halted and the soldiers presented 
arms as "the nation's guest" passed by. 

The journey to Vera Cruz by way of Cordova was 



The Guest of a Nation 419 

through a wild and rocky region. The road passed through 
luxuriant tropical forests in its gradual descent to the 
coast. A short pause was made to look at the work 
on the Chiquihuite Pass — a gigantic piece of railway 
engineering. 

Now they were in "Tierra Caliente, " out of the region 
of grain fields, orchards, and magueys, and again among 
bananas, oranges, sugar plantations, and cane huts. At 
Paso del Macho, a train was in waiting; and in a few hours 
more they were in Vera Cruz. ' ' Mr. Seward's house " was 
ready here also. This time it was one belonging to Mr. 
Schleiden, a merchant of Vera Cruz, and a brother of an 
old friend, formerly Minister at Washington from the 
Hanseatic cities. The Governor of the state of Vera Cruz, 
the Collector of the Port, and other federal and state 
officials, in full uniform, soon came to pay a visit of 
ceremony and tender a welcome. 

Only one more week remained before departure. It 
was passed in rambles through the well-paved, substantial 
streets of Vera Cruz, visits to its historic spots, to its great 
Mole, and to the Castle of San Juan de Ulloa. One day 
was spent in penning farewell letters to the kind friends 
who had made the journey through the republic so 
memorable and enjoyable. 

Besides the formal letter of thanks addressed to the 
Government, Seward wrote to President Juarez: 

' ' But I could not think of leaving the country without 
making a more direct and unstudied acknowledgment of 
my profound sense of obligation to you for the attentions 
and hospitality with which you have received myself and 
family during our delightful sojourn in Mexico. " 

To Mr. Romero he wrote: 

"It is not to renew my grateful acknowledgment that I 
write this parting letter, so much as it is to assure you of 
my profound sympathy with you in your arduous labours 



420 Napoleon III. and His Ministers 

for the restoration of law, order, prosperity, and prestige 
in Mexico. " 

And to Mr. Bossero, the Government Commissioner 
who had accompanied him from Guadalajara, he expressed 
his thanks "for cares and attentions, which have not 
merely saved me from every danger and discomfort, 
but which have made the journey of my family and 
friends a constant instruction and continual pleasure." 

There was no steamer from Vera Cruz proceeding 
directly to the United States, all the lines touching at 
Havana. As the change from a tropical to a northern 
climate in mid- winter was not desirable, Seward decided 
to spend a few weeks in Cuba, so as to reach home in the 
early spring. He embarked on the Cleopatra, Captain 
Phillips, on the afternoon of Tuesday, January nth. 
Long after she had passed the Castle and out of the 
harbour, and had lost sight of the coast, the snowy crown 
of the Pico de Orizaba was glistening in the rays of the 
setting sun on the distant horizon. It was like a last 
glimpse of an old friend, and the party sat on deck in the 
evening watching it, and recalling their thousand-and-one 
pleasant memories of the journey through Mexico. 



Napoleon HI. and His Ministers. A Talk with M. 
Drouyn de I'Huys. It was after the close of our Civil 
War, the collapse of the Mexican Empire, and the fall of 
Napoleon III., that my father for the last time visited 
Paris. He had retired from office as Secretary of State, 
and had spent two years in travel. On his return from his 
journey round the world, he stopped in Paris to meet old 
friends, and to watch the growth of the young Republic. 
Mr. O'Sullivan, a resident there who had been connected 
with the American diplomatic service, describes an inter- 
view that took place between my father and M. Drouyn de 



Napoleon III. and His Ministers 421 

I'Huys, who had been the Emperor's Minister of Foreign 
Affairs. He writes : 

"Knowing both these eminent men, remembering how, 
at the heads of the departments of foreign affairs of France 
and the United States, they had been pitted against each 
other under extraordinary and critical circumstances, 
and happening to visit them both on the same day, I 
thought they ought to come together, and mentioned it 
each to the other. 

"'I should be most delighted to meet Mr. Seward,' 
said M. Drouyn de I'Huys; 'we have been opposed to 
each other, as athletes, but I preserve a great esteem and 
respect for him, and I know that he has always spoken 
kindly of me. Moreover I have not forgotten some 
excellent cigars which he did me the agreeable honour of 
sending to me.' 

" 'M. Drouyn de 1' Huys, ' said Mr. Seward on the other 
hand, 'why, I was but yesterday thinking of how to find 
him and call upon him.' 

"It is not therefore wonderful that the next day Mr. 
Seward and I alighted at the door of M. Drouyn de 
I'Huys, after a pleasant drive up the Champs Elysees. 
They met with the utmost cordiality, and manifest 
pleasure reflected from each countenance. Mr. Seward 
explained that he, unfortunately, could not grasp and 
shake the hand held out to him, as he once could have 
done. M. Drouyn de 1' Huys is a tall, large, and powerful 
man, not much if at all beyond sixty, with a massive head 
and open countenance, a very English general appearance, 
a very kindly as well as intellectual expression, and 
manners at once cordial, frank, and simple. He speaks 
English quite well. 

"I need not describe Mr. Seward, with the sad traces 
of his cruel wounds on his face, and his arms rendered 
helpless : but with the same bright gleam under his bushy 



422 Napoleon III. and His Ministers 

eyebrows, the same hearty laugh at a good point of his 
own or anybody else's, and the same continuous flow of 
bold and pleasant talk, as of old, in his better — no, not his 
better — but his younger days. 

"I must do him the justice to say that he occupied a 
good three-fourths of the conversation, while neither M. 
Drouyn de I'Huys nor I myself could have wished it 
otherwise. 

"An interview of about an hour and a half, in which 
the conversation ranged far and wide, on topics embracing 
politics as well as geography, no stenographer present, 
no notes taken, and myself the only third person present 
(you will forgive to my Irish origin the implication that 
there might be more than one 'third person'), I myself too 
much under the charm of the talk to think of fixing it in 
my recollection for narrative — how can I give you much 
of an account of it ? But I will do my best. 

"It began on the topic of his travels. I believe I 
started it by remarking that he was probably the only 
man to whom it had ever occurred, since the world was 
made, to have been so nearly killed by being thrown from 
a carriage; then, while lying helpless, to have been left 
for dead under the stabs of a powerful assassin ; and then 
with advanced years superadded to all that, and strength 
greatly impaired by the consequences of his injuries, to 
have made the circuit of the globe, which he would have 
accomplished, as soon as he had got back home from his 
present journey. 

"This led Mr. Seward to give an interesting account of 
what he had done. After his eight years of direction of 
the foreign affairs of his own country, he had a desire to 
visit the different nations with whom or about whom he 
had had, in various ways, to deal. 

"He first went to Alaska, which he had bought from 
Russia with a view to marking the whole hemisphere as 



Napoleon III. and His Ministers 423 

properly belonging to the American system up to the 
North Pole. 

"Then he went to Mexico, whose struggle against 
imperialism had furnished one of the gravest questions of 
his term of administration. 

"Then to Cuba which is a chronic source of diplomatic 
questions for the American Government. 

"On this second journey, the present one, he took in 
Japan, China, India and Egypt, and now Europe. 

"From Paris he was going to Berlin, and thence home 
by way of London. 

"It had been a matter of great interest to him to meet 
many men with whom he had had more or less dealing as 
Secretary of State : the ministers as well as the sovereigns, 
with whom he had discussed international questions on 
behalf of his Government. He had paid a very pleasant 
visit to Lord Napier, formerly at Washington, now 
Governor of Madras ; Lord Lyons, formerly at Washington, 
now British Ambassador at Paris. Another of his old 
friends he had great pleasure in meeting was Henri 
Mercier, formerly French Minister to the United States 
during the Mexican imbroglio, a loyal adherent to the 
Imperial dynasty, always cordial and friendly in his good 
wishes for the United States. 

"M. Drouyn de I'Huys asked: 'Can you tell me any- 
thing recent about Signor Bertinatti, formerly ItaHan 
Minister at Washington, who was once a confidential and 
private ambassador from me to you at a grave emergency 
in our diplomatic intercourse ? ' 

"Mr. Seward answered: 'Oh, yes, he is just as true and 
earnest and sympathetic as he was then. He is now 
Italian Minister at The Hague, where he writes he has 
just been fitting a house to receive me. I regret very 
much that I am unable to see him.' 

"'By the way, those confidential missions formed a 



424 Napoleon III. and His Ministers 

very important feature in the intercourse between our 
governments. I early learned that the Emperor liked that 
way of doing business, better than the ordinary diplomatic 
channel. He sent several confidential messages to me by 
persons outside of your department. But I always made 
it a point that our confidential replies should pass through 
the hands of the Minister of Foreign Affairs. I was un- 
willing to be a party in keeping a secret from him.' 

"The conversation then turned upon Mr. Seward's 
former acquaintance with the Emperor and his visit to 
Paris in 1859. M. Drouyn de I'Huys asked: 'What 
opinions did you form of the persons you met here 
then?' 

'"Of Walewsld, that he was a minister who was not 
possessed of the Emperor's entire confidence. Of the 
Empress, that she was an amiable woman, whose influence 
was exaggerated. Of the Emperor, that he was a man of 
eminent talents and sagacity; that he desired to promote 
social progress in France ; and that he was bolder in social 
reform than I had anticipated from the manner in which 
he reached the throne. ' 

'"What do you think of him now?' 

"'I do not allow myself, if I can avoid it, to judge 
statesmen any more than generals on the mere ground of 
their success. I was astonished when I saw the Emperor 
afterwards balancing so closely between the United 
States Government and the Rebellion, and finally throw- 
ing his sword into the scale, by his expedition to Mexico. 
I had seen him when he was in exile in the United States ; 
he talked with me at Compiegne about his visit there. 
I could not believe it possible that a European statesman 
who had visited the United States would fail to see that 
the combination of the States was impregnable, and that 
the American continent should never again be the theatre 
of European aggression or invasion.' 



Napoleon III. and His Ministers 425 

'"Then you were disappointed?' 

"'Yes, but hardly more so with the position taken by 
the Emperor than with the position which the British 
Government at first assumed. I told Lord Lyons yester- 
day, half seriously, that the three most impudent men in 
history are Hernando Cortez, himself and Henri Mercier: 
Hernando Cortez when he proposed to Montezuma that 
he should leave his palace, and become the hostage in 
Cortez's headquarters for the preservation of peace; Lord 
Lyons and Mercier, when, under instructions, they came 
together to the Department of State to announce an 
agreement between the British Government and the 
Emperor as to the course they should jointly pursue in 
regard to the American question. I told them that the 
United States were bound to hear any respectful message 
from either of those governments separately, but they 
were not bound to receive communications from those 
states conjointly. The two ministers assented and with- 
drew; and each afterwards returned, with a message from 
his own government, without referring to the action of the 
other. ' 

"Perhaps," suggested Mr. O'Sullivan, "you over- 
estimated the personal capacity of the late Emperor, and 
that at the bottom of the Mexican expedition there were 
influences and motives which did not appear on the sur- 
face. M. Drouyn de I'Huys, though in the ministry 
during the period, where he had to treat with you the 
questions growing out of it, was not in it at the under- 
taking of the Mexican expedition, to which he had always 
been opposed. " 

M. Drouyn de I'Huys confirmed this. He said that all 
had been settled, the attack on Puebla made, and the 
engagement with Maximilian taken before he (M. Drouyn 
de I'Huys) came in. He added this was not the only 
mistake and disaster for which he was not responsible, 



426 Napoleon III. and His Ministers 

but which he was called upon to meet, and to do the best 
possible for his country in a situation created by others. 

Mr. Seward replied: "I can well understand this now, 
though I did not then. From the time of Joseph in the 
Court of Pharaoh, until now, it has been the hard task of a 
prime minister to give up all the merits of his own opinions 
to his chief, and to bear himself the responsibilities of all 
the chief's errors. 

"It is the necessary condition of ministerial service. I 
was always adverse to that service. But in the most 
critical hour we ever had, my country demanded that 
service of me, and would accept no other. It was rendered 
with a full knowledge of the conditions attached. The 
minister's reward for such misapprehensions is to be 
found in the approbation of his own conscience. " 

Mr. O'Sullivan remarked: "M. Drouyn de I'Huys had 
left the ministry before the final arrangement was made 
for the evacuation of Mexico by the French army. He, 
I presume, is as desirous as I am, to elicit your version of 
that transaction. The world thought that you might have 
been a little less rough with France, at the very end, — 
than you were, in hurrying them out so very peremptorily." 

Mr. Seward answered: "Of course the world did not 
know the exact situation. It taxed all the confidence 
which the people of the United States had in me, when I 
consented to take the Emperor's stipulation to withdraw 
the French army from Mexico in three instalments, in 
November, March, and the November following. 

"They said the stipulation on his part was perfidious. 
I knew better. I knew that the Emperor had every motive 
to be sincere, and I trusted him; at the same time I thought 
that the withdrawal would necessarily be made all at 
once, and earlier than he had promised to complete it. 
As the time approached for the withdrawal of the first 
instalment, the Emperor found, as I had apprehended he 



Napoleon III. and His Ministers 427 

would, that military exigencies would prevent the execu- 
tion of the plan of evacuation by instalments. 

"The Marquis de Montholon approached me early in 
the season, for the purpose of sounding me upon a propo- 
sition to delay the November evacuation. Conscious of 
the difficulty existing on our side, I repelled his suggestion 
with so much decision that he forbore from presenting me 
the communication from his Government, in which the 
proposition was made. 

"At a later day he came to read to me the communica- 
tion from his Government, in which it was stated that the 
Emperor would not withdraw a portion of the troops in 
November, but would withdraw the whole in the spring. 
When this communication was received, the session of 
Congress was near at hand. It was sure to be unsatis- 
factory to them and to the people. Our Civil War was at 
an end. General Grant, with the Mexican Legation 
urging him on one side, and a powerful party in Congress 
on the other, was inclined to send an army into Mexico 
to expel the French. I knew this was unnecessary. I 
knew it was easier to send an American army into Mexico 
than it was to get it out again. My understanding of the 
Monroe Doctrine is, that the United States shall maintain 
American republics against monarchial intervention, but 
not absorb them by fraud or force. I therefore hurried 
off a strong dispatch by telegraph to be read to the 
Emperor, which would arouse him to the necessity of 
giving us a guaranty for the execution of his project. " 

"Ah, " said Mr. O'Sullivan, "that was the famous cable 
dispatch of two thousand words, I suppose. " 

"Yes," replied Mr. Seward, "it contained seven hun- 
dred and fifty words, but the telegraphic cipher at that 
time had a faculty of multiplying signs, so that I think it 
was given out by some of the telegraph people that it 
contained ten thousand words. Mr. Bigelow intimated the 



428 Napoleon III. and His Ministers 

earnest character of the dispatch to M. Lavalette, then 
Minister of Foreign Affairs. The Emperor decHned to 
hear it read, but gave the guaranties which the dispatch 
required, so the transaction was satisfactorily closed, 
without offence on either side. 

"It was a pleasant experience in Mexico, to receive the 
thanks of the President and his ministers for my agency in 
procuring the withdrawal of the French army without 
sending the United States force to expel it. " 

Many were the exclamations and expressions of interest 
and sympathy which M. Drouyn de I'Huys made in reply 
to the brief account which, at his request, Mr. Seward 
gave of the fearful events of the assassination night at 
Washington. 

Mr. Seward said that it had been a subject of some 
amusement to him, to note the European reverberations 
of the telegraphic accounts of that night. "At the 
moment when it occurred, India was rapidly coming to 
replace the United States in supplying the world with 
cotton. At Bombay they showed me two telegrams. The 
first was, 'London, April 15th, Lincoln shot, Seward 
murdered.' The next one was, 'London, April i6th, 
Lincoln dead. Seward not dead. Cotton a shade 
better. ' 

M. Drouyn de I'Huys expressed a hope that he might 
some time be able to visit the United States. 

Mr. Seward said : ' ' You must come while I am there to 
receive you; come while I am alive. " 

"Oh," answered M. Drouyn de I'Huys, "no fear of 
that, after all you have gone through without its prevent- 
ing you from making a tour of the globe. I do not see 
what could ever kill you, until you may choose to die of 
your own accord, after all the rest of us. " 

And so they parted, as genially as they had met. 



Legislative Life 429 

1869, etc. 

Retirement to the Country. After my father's death, 
the next few years were largely devoted to gathering his 
correspondence, and writing the memoir of his life. 

This work was partly done at his old homestead in 
Auburn, and partly at our new home, which I had pur- 
chased, on the banks of the Hudson River. It was a 
rough, uncultivated piece of ground, hardly fit for farm 
purposes, but possessing a fine prospect and the possi- 
bilities of natural beauty that might be developed and 
improved. 

There was a plain substantial brick house, which 
would serve for a residence. My family were installed 
in it, and we began the operations of gardening and 
cultivation. 

There was ample leisure for literary work, plenty of 
fresh air and exercise, and notable peace and quiet. Here 
we have lived ever since, except for the periods devoted 
to travel, or the exigencies of public life, when I was 
called to Albany or Washington or New York. 

1875. 

Legislative Life. In 1874 ^^^ Republicans of one of the 
New York City districts invited me to become their 
candidate for the Assembly. I was elected, and in con- 
sequence found it necessary to take up my residence in 
Albany again, for the winter. I rented a furnished house, 
very near what had once been the site of the Pearl Street 
Academy, where I had spent my early school days. 

It was fifteen years since I had formerly resided in 
Albany, but the old town seemed much like home. It 
had grown considerably to the north, south, and westward 
— but its general aspect was the same. Many old land- 
marks were still standing, though surrounded by many 
new residences and places of business. The "Governor's 



430 Legislative Life 

Mansion " of my boyish memories was gone. The historic 
home of the old Patroons, the "Van Rensselaer Mansion," 
was standing, but no longer occupied by the family. The 
"Schuyler Mansion" of revolutionary fame had been 
turned into a public institution. New churches had been 
erected in various parts of the city, for the use of their 
old congregations. The old freestone Capitol still stood 
on State Street Hill, though showing many signs of age 
and premonitions of its approaching end. 

Under the astute and able management of Governor 
Tilden, "the Democrats had swept the State," and the 
Republicans were in a minority in the Legislature. But 
the Assembly still retained some of its veteran leaders, 
among them Lieutenant-Governor Alvord, ex-Speaker 
Husted, and L. Bradford Prince. 

Shall I confess that the issues presented for our con- 
sideration seemed to me, at first, comparatively trivial, 
and unimportant? Certainly they did not awaken such 
enthusiasm in their favour, or such rancour and bitterness 
among their opponents, as I had been accustomed to 
at Washington. Yet there were some questions among 
them that were of high importance to the welfare of the 
State. 

As the work of the session went on, I found that, 
although belonging to the minority, I received my full 
share of consideration. I was listened to with courtesy, 
though voted down on all partisan questions. Whenever 
I clearly demonstrated that a measure was undoubtedly 
for the public good, I found no difficulty in obtaining 
support for it. Speaker McGuire appointed me on various 
committees — I think eleven or twelve in all. 

Among the measures of chief importance at this time 
were "rapid transit" in the city of New York, canal 
investigation and reforms, and amendments to the Con- 
stitution. I introduced two Constitutional Amendments, 



A Puzzled Potentate 431 

providing for a Superintendent of Prisons and a Superin- 
tendent of Public Works, which were afterwards adopted. 
I introduced also the bill for the construction of the Ninth 
Avenue Elevated Railroad, which was the first experiment 
in the way of "rapid transit. " So it fell to me also to be 
one of the spokesmen in behalf of the advocates of the 
reduction of canal tolls, of the Society for the Prevention 
of Cruelty to Children, and of other measures, for the 
improvement of the Banking System, and the adoption of 
general laws instead of specific charters. 

The Legislature supported the policy of Governor 
Tilden in regard to the investigations of canal frauds, and 
the amendments to the New York City Charter. It also 
elected Francis Kernan to be United States Senator, in 
place of Governor Morgan, and extended an honorary 
welcome to William C. Bryant, and passed a flood of bills 
of minor and local interest. 

In the fall, the Republican State Convention nominated 
me for Secretary of State, and named several veteran 
Republicans as candidates for other State offices; among 
them Francis E. Spinner, whose signature as United States 
Treasurer was so well known throughout the Civil War. 
In the election, however, we were unsuccessful; the 
Democrats again carrying the State, though by a reduced 
majority. 

1877. 
A Puzzled Potentate. When the head of a government 
is changed, it is the custom for every diplomatic repre- 
sentative to wait upon the sovereign to whom he is 
accredited, and formally announce the fact. In accord- 
ance with this usage, our representative at the Court of 
one of the Barbary Powers formally announced to his 
Highness the Bey the accession of Rutherford B. Hayes to 
the Presidency of the United States. 



432 The Vice-President of the Confederacy 

When the formal ceremony was over the Bey signified 
he would like to have a little private conversation with 
the minister. Said he : 

"What has become of General Grant?" 

"He retires from his position to give place to Mr. 
Hayes." 

"Was the fighting bloody, or long continued? Was 
Washington captured?" 

"Oh! no, your Majesty. All was peaceable and con- 
ducted in order. " 

' ' And what proportion of the army does General Grant 
take with him? And what part of the public treasure is 
allotted to him?" 

"None at all, your Majesty; General Grant simply 
becomes a private citizen." 

"How," exclaimed the Bey, "a private citizen! Why, 
we have been hearing for years that this General Grant 
was one of the greatest military commanders of the age. 
And now it seems he has surrendered his Capitol, aban- 
doned his army, and given up his revenues to his successor 
— all without even striking a blow. Allah il allah! God 
is great, but this is incomprehensible!" 

The Vice-President of the Confederacy. Alexander H. 
Stephens was a prominent and dramatic figure in Con- 
gress, in the early days of the Hayes Administration. 
He was back in his old position as a Democratic leader 
in the House of Representatives, as before the War. But 
age and illness had overtaken him. He could not rise 
from his seat to address the Speaker. When he wished to 
speak, his invalid chair was wheeled down the aisle to the 
open space in front of the Clerk's desk, and, as he sat there, 
his emphatic, but shrill and enfeebled voice was listened to 
with marked attention by a House that seldom listened 
to any one else. 



The Vice-President of the Confederacy 433 

The Democrats had a strong majority, and many of 
them were inclined to oppose the President, and even to 
refuse appropriations for his administration, on the ground 
that Tilden instead of Hayes should have been in the 
Presidential chair. 

At the instance of Secretary Evarts, I had been recalled 
to my old position of Assistant Secretary of State, and met 
again in the Department many of those whom I had left 
there eight years before. 

One morning a message was brought me that Mr. 
Stephens would like to have a call from me at his rooms, 
where he was ill in bed. 

I went down to the hotel and found him propped up in 
bed with pillows, and attended by a nurse. It was an 
attenuated form, with emaciated face. In a voice hardly 
above a whisper, he said: "I have something to say to 
you, Mr. Seward, which perhaps may be of importance, 
and I hoped to say it today. But I find myself too weak. 
I shall be stronger in a day or two, and then I would like 
to come up to your rooms, if you will arrange for a pri- 
vate interview with me there." 

Of course, I promised. A few days later he was 
brought to the Department. I shut out all other visitors, 
and his wheeled chair, brought up in the elevator, was 
rolled into my room by a stout black man. A tall young 
Georgian whom I took to be his secretary attended him. 
To him Mr. Stephens said: "You may go now. I shall 
not need you any longer." 

The young man bowed and retired. The black man, 
however, remained sitting calmly and placidly on the 
sofa. Looking toward him, I said, "Don't you wish him 
to go too?" 

Mr. Stephens looked up in surprise. "That, — oh, that 
is George. He is always with me. I've no secrets from 
George. " 
28 



434 The Vice-President of the Confederacy 

So George stayed through the interview ; but apparently 
took very little interest in it. 

After a little chat over the old times before the war, 
when he and my father were so long at opposite ends of the 
Capitol, and on opposite sides of political questions, he 
said, in substance: 

"Though always sharing in the opinions of my section, 
I was not in favour of disunion. When secession was 
first talked of, I opposed it. But I found there was no 
use in resisting what had become the general feeling of our 
people, and when my State seceded, I acquiesced in the 
situation. Later I accepted the place of Vice-President 
of the Confederacy, partly in the hope of mitigating the 
horrors of the war, which had become inevitable, and of 
ending it, whenever that could be done with honour, and 
with due regard to the interests of the South. 

"Your father and I did not see each other again until 
we met in the Fortress Monroe Conference, where he with 
Mr. Lincoln, and I with my colleagues, made an unavailing 
attempt to agree on terms of peace. " 

Continuing, he remarked that these were now all 
matters of past history. Recanting none of his past 
opinions, which were carefully set forth in his books, he 
remained a Southerner and a Democrat. But he now was 
once more a Representative in the Congress of the United 
States. He purposed to accept and faithfully discharge 
the duties and responsibilities of that position. And so 
he added, "I expect and desire to die a Union man. " 

Then he went on to say that he should not be a sup- 
porter of the administration, and should oppose any 
measure that seemed to him merely Republican and 
partisan. But he should countenance no unpatriotic 
refusal to vote for measures that were for the true interests 
of the country and the public welfare. He should advise 
his colleagues not to deny or oppose any just and proper 



The Recoornition of Poriirio Diaz 435 



appropriations needed for the maintenance of the 
Government at home, and to uphold its interests and 
prestige abroad. 

"It seemed to me that I must say this to somebody. I 
could not go to the White House and say it to the President 
without exciting talk and perhaps provoking newspaper 
controversy. The members of his Cabinet I have no 
personal acquaintance with. But I can talk with you, on 
the score of old acquaintance, and what I say you are at 
liberty to repeat to them. " 

The conversation was somewhat long, as he expressed 
himself more clearly and emphatically on these points, 
in more detail. 

Of course the President and Cabinet were gratified to 
know of his views and his proposed course of action. So 
far as I am aware, he faithfully adhered to it during his 
term in Congress. 

I did not see him again. His call at the State Depart- 
ment seemed to excite no outside remark, as many of the 
leading ex-Confederates — Gordon, Lamar, King, Trescott, 
and others — were frequent visitors at my rooms to discuss 
questions of foreign policy or candidates for foreign 
positions. 

1877. 

The Recognition of Porfirio Diaz. Among the diplo- 
matic questions awaiting decision by the new administra- 
tion of President Hayes, was one about which I was 
supposed to be especially qualified by past experience to 
speak. This was our policy in reference to Mexico. Of 
course I was familiar with all the events of the rise and 
fall of the French invasion, and Maximilian's Empire, and 
the restoration of the Republicans to power there. 

When I was in Mexico with my father in 1869, we found 
a peaceable and grateful Republic under the benign ad- 



436 The Recognition of Porfirio Diaz 

ministration of our old friend Benito Juarez, with Lerdo as 
Vice-President and Romero as Secretary of the Treasury. 
We had fondly imagined that Mexico had now entered 
upon a new era in her troublous history, and that con- 
stitutional Presidents, in due course of election, would 
succeed each other there, as in the United States. 

But in the intervening eight years President Juarez had 
died. His successor, Lerdo, was driven from power; and 
the Presidency had been grasped by Porfirio Diaz, whom 
we had known as an able and patriotic general and pre- 
sumably a supporter of the constitutional order of things. 

Now he appeared in the unwelcome character of a 
disturber of the public peace and a usurper of the Presi- 
dential office by revolution. We were assured that the 
Mexicans approved of him, and would not, at all events, 
resist his accession to supreme power. 

It fell to me, therefore, to outline the policy of the 
United States in regard to Mexico, as well as in reference 
to other Spanish-American Republics. The rules thus 
laid down have been followed ever since by the Govern- 
ment of the United States. In an instruction to Mr. 
Foster, I wrote: 

" It is the custom to accept and recognize the results of 
a popular choice in Mexico, and not to scrutinize closely 
the regularity or irregularity of the methods by which 
Presidents are inaugurated. In the present case the 
Government waits before recognizing General Diaz as 
the President of Mexico, until it shall be assured that his 
election is approved by the Mexican people, and that his 
administration is possessed of stability to endure and a 
disposition to comply with the rules of international 
comity and the obligations of treaties. Such recognition, 
if accorded, would imply something more than a mere 
formal assent. It would imply a belief that the Govern- 
ment so recognized will faithfully execute its duties and 



The Story of Samoa 437 

observe the spirit of its treaties. The recognition of a 
President in Mexico by the United States has an important 
moral influence which is appreciated at the capital of that 
Republic. " 

The recognition of President Diaz was therefore de- 
ferred for some months, and meanwhile he gave assurance 
that the treaty obligations of Mexico to the United States 
would be faithfully observed by him. The Mexican 
people also sanctioned his choice by a regular election. 

He then entered upon that long career of over thirty 
years, in which, by successive elections, he remained the 
ruler of Mexico, with the consent of his people, maintain- 
ing her peace, developing her resources, and adding to her 
prosperity. 

1877. 

The Story of Samoa. One morning in 1877, while 
sitting at my desk in the Department of State, I was 
informed that two gentlemen "from some Pacific Islands" 
desired to see me. On entering, they introduced them- 
selves. One was an American merchant, who had been 
engaged in business at Apia Harbour. The other was a 
tall, fine-looking, swarthy-complexioned man, in ordinary 
American dress, who proved to be the Secretary of State 
and Minister of Foreign Affairs of the Samoan Islands. 

He spoke English easily and fluently, but with some 
quaint idioms that seemed to render it more impressive. 
When I asked how he had learned it, he told me that he 
was taught by the missionaries. Schools and text-books 
not being available, his chief book for study of the lan- 
guage had been the Bible. 

His credentials proved to be all in proper form, and as 
the business which brought him to Washington was so 
important it had been deemed wise that he should come 
on himself, instead of entrusting it to any diplomatic or 



438 The Story of Samoa 

consular representative, I duly presented him to the 
Secretary of State, Mr. Evarts, and to President Hayes, 
and I was authorized to discuss matters with him on the 
part of our Government. 

With the increase of intercourse and trade, the Samoan 
Islanders had perceived that they might become the 
object of some intrigue, or perhaps fall under the sway of 
some one of the maritime powers of Europe, whom they 
would be powerless to resist. Doubtful of their ability to 
maintain peaceful and stable existence, they wished the 
United States to recognize and protect their independence, 
to establish commercial relations with their people, and 
to assist them in their steps toward regulated and re- 
sponsible government. 

In short, his mission was nothing less than to ask that 
they might come under the flag of the United States, and 
become a part of our extended dominion, either by formal 
annexation or under a protectorate, in such form as the 
American Government might prefer. 

Having seen Pacific islands, one after another, eagerly 
seized upon by some European power, and having no wish 
to become subjects of any such power, they had decided 
to offer their islands to the United States. Of course 
they hardly anticipated that there would be any hesita- 
tion on our part in accepting such an offer. 

I explained that, while the American people had in 
former years been willing and desirous of extending their 
national domain on the continent, yet there had now 
come a decided change in public opinion. Extension of 
the national boundaries was now looked upon with dis- 
favour. 

Especially was there a strong opposition to the acqui- 
sition of any islands, near or remote, inhabited by any race 
but our own. The proposed treaties for naval harbours 
in the West Indies, and for the acquisition of St. Thomas, 



The Story of Samoa 439 

Santa Cruz, and Santo Domingo, had been shelved or 
summarily rejected. Even the Panama Canal had been 
allowed to pass into the hands of a European power; and 
the purchase of Alaska was still a subject of reproach and 
ridicule, and pronounced a gigantic folly. 

Having had a hand myself in the negotiation of these 
treaties, I could foresee the difficulties in the way of the 
mission he had undertaken. Of course I believed this 
dread of national expansion was a passing phase and an 
unreasonable and unnatural one. But, while it lasted, it 
had to be reckoned with. 

The Samoan proposals were laid before Secretary 
Evarts, and by him laid before the President and Cabinet. 
Both President Hayes and Mr. Evarts believed that my 
father's policy in this regard had been wise and judicious. 
But they saw also that it would now encounter the same 
opposition that it had during the administration of Presi- 
dent Johnson and subsequently under that of President 
Grant. 

The Navy Department warmly favoured the Samoan 
proposition, as it had always desired the establishment 
of naval outposts in the Pacific. In fact, tentative steps 
had already been taken by naval officers for obtaining a 
port in the Islands for coaling and repairs. 

The leading members of the Foreign Affairs Committees 
in Congress, and the leading Republicans in both Houses 
were sounded. There were differences of opinion among 
them, but practically all were agreed that the times were 
inauspicious for the consideration of any such project. 
The Senate would not consent to any treaty that involved 
expense or obligation, and the House, in which there was 
an anti-Administration majority, would vote it down as a 
matter of course. It seemed to be considered a mark of 
patriotism to oppose any addition to our own country. 

The Samoan Envoy listened gravely and sadly to the 



440 The Story of Samoa 

recital of these adverse conditions. Finally, he said that 
I might draw up the treaty in any form I thought best, 
and he believed his people would agree. They would give 
us their best harbour, that of Pago-Pago, which fortu- 
nately was as yet unoccupied, and in return would ask 
nothing, except our assurances of peace and friendship. 

I drafted a treaty, and then another and yet another, 
endeavouring to meet the various Congressional and 
popular objections. It seemed as if the Senate might be 
induced to consent to the acceptance of a harbour, provided 
the country was not to pay anything for it, or even to 
agree to protect or defend it. 

So, at last, the treaty was put into that form. Even the 
phrases tendering our good offices in case of disputes 
with other powers were objected to, but were finally 
allowed to stand. The treaty was signed and sealed by 
the Secretary and Mr. Mamea, the Samoan Envoy. It 
was sent to the Senate, and in due time was confirmed. 

The press and the public seemed to regard the matter 
with indifference, and the House refused any appropria- 
tion for a coal yard for Pago-Pago, which remained 
deserted and unused. 

The Diplomatic Corps of course took note of the 
Samoan affair. Some of them were amused and others 
puzzled by it. For a nation of " landgrabbers " as we were 
called in Europe, we seemed to be very slow and reluctant 
to take steps for our own aggrandizement. 

When I mentioned to the British Minister, Sir Edward 
Thornton, that the Samoans might perhaps ask Queen 
Victoria for a protectorate, in case their negotiations with 
us should fail, he smiled and said, "Well, I suppose we 
should take them, but I do not think we should care to 
enter into any quarrel about it. " 

A few months later. Dr. von Schlozer, the German 
Minister, came into my room in very cheerful mood. 



A Night Move against a Mob 441 

"Aha!" said he. "Also we have a harbour in Samoa. 
Not the best — no, you have the best. You have Pago- 
Pago. But we have the next best. " 

"What one have you, mein Herr?" 

"Apia — Apia Harbour. It is a good harbour. It is 
where the people are, and the trade. We shall use our 
harbour now. You do not use yours — no. But you will, 
some day. Some day, you will. " 

And in so saying the cheery Envoy proved himself a 
prophet. 

A Night Move against a Mob. It was in the summer of 
1877. Washington was sweltering in the heats of July. 
The dry and dusty streets were deserted by all who were 
not obliged to face the blazing sunshine. Congress and 
the Courts were gone. Officers of the Departments were 
having their usual summer vacations. President Hayes 
was living out at the Soldiers' Home. The Secretary of 
State, Mr. Evarts, was up at his country place, at Windsor, 
Vermont, and I, as Acting Secretary, was in charge of the 
Department of State. The Secretary of War, Mr. Mc- 
Creery, was out in Iowa, and the Adjutant-General was 
in charge of the War Department. 

Four o'clock in the afternoon was at hand, and the 
clerks were putting up their papers and locking up their 
desks, — when a messenger came over from the War 
Department. Sudden and disquieting news was coming 
in by telegraph, requiring immediate conference between 
the Acting Secretaries of State and War. 

The conference was held at once ; and we found ourselves 
confronted with a serious situation. There had been some 
weeks of railroad troubles, growing out of the business 
depression, and augmented by the lack of harmony 
between their managers, a war of rates, and hasty and 
sweeping reduction of wages. Strikes and riots had re- 



442 A Night Move against a Mob 

suited, beginning in Maryland, and spreading to Penn- 
sylvania. 

Now had come information that the troubles had cul- 
minated in riots o' grave proportions in Pittsburg. 
Merchants, mechanics, the local press, and many citizens, 
having their own reasons for discontent, had, at the outset, 
largely given their sympathies to the strikers. But they 
speedily found they were rousing a power they could not 
control. Crowds of the unemployed thronged to the 
scene of disturbance "to aid the strikers." Thieves, 
criminals, and lawless outcasts saw their opportunity to 
pursue their nefarious plundering, while posing as "friends 
of the working man," and loudly proclaiming a "war of 
Labour against Capital. " A hundred thousand men were 
said to be involved in it. Trains were stopped. Business 
was paralysed. Riot, arson, murder, and pillage had begun. 
Affairs in Pittsburg were rapidly assuming the shape of 
anarchy. The police were inadequate. The civil authori- 
ties were powerless. The State soldiery were more or less 
disaffected, many of them fraternizing with the rioters. 
Peaceable citizens were helpless. The Governor was out 
of the State travelling at the West. His Adjutant-General 
was sending miUtia from Philadelphia, but it was said 
they would be overborne, or join the mob. As one of the 
organs of the strike sympathizers exultingly declared, 
"The Lexington of the Labour Conflict is at hand!" 

The Governor, hastening homeward, had telegraphed 
to Washington for aid from the General Government. 
No other power could stop the destruction of life and 
property at Pittsburg but "Uncle Sam." And "Uncle 
Sam's" hands were tied! 

The promoters of the "Labour War" had laid their 
plans with shrewdness and cunning. They had taken 
advantage of the political situation. Congress had ad- 
journed in March without passing the Army Appropria- 



A Night Move against a Mob 443 

tion bill, — so the soldiers would be left without pay. 
Furthermore, the stringent legislation adopted at the 
instance of the Southern States had provided that no 
United States troops should be moved into any State 
until after a formal request for them should be made by 
the Governor, and not then until after the President had 
issued his proclamation, calling upon the disorderly 
elements to desist and return to their homes "within 
twenty days." So it looked to the Pittsburgers as if 
their city was likely to be at the mercy of the rioters for at 
least three weeks. And it looked so to the rioters too! 
With the Federal troops kept out, the mob would have 
full sway. 

The General Government practically had no Army 
available. There were no United States troops anywhere 
within reach, that would be at all adequate to cope with 
any formidable force. There were a few scattered garri- 
sons at Carlisle Barracks, Cleveland, Philadelphia, and 
elsewhere, from which squads or detachments might be 
drawn. But that was all. And there was no time to 
lose. 

We summoned our clerks back to their desks, and 
prepared for a night's work. The Acting Secretary of 
War answered the Governor of Pennsylvania, by advising 
him to make his formal request for troops at once, and 
to make it by telegraph. He instructed the commanders 
of the different garrisons to equip detachments, and hold 
them in readiness to move at daybreak. 

Meanwhile I sat down at my desk to prepare the neces- 
sary Proclamation for the President to issue, and sent a 
messenger out to the Soldiers' Home, to ask President 
Hayes not to retire until it should come to him for his 
signature. Then I sent over to "Newspaper Row," to 
invite the correspondents of the leading journals to 
assemble at the State Department at midnight, as there 



444 A Night Move against a Mob 

would be important news, which their papers would desire 
to put in their morning editions. 

The whole military force that we could muster would be 
but inconsiderable. But there was a potent moral in- 
fluence on which we thought we could rely. That was 
the latent patriotism of the people. Ever since the close 
of ourCivil War, profound respect and even reverence 
had been shown for the National flag and the National 
authority. There was no one now, who would willingly 
care to fire on the "Stars and Stripes, " or to lift his hand 
in open conflict with the "Boys in Blue. " Even the mail 
waggons of ' ' Uncle Sam " were not molested by the rioters. 
So we determined that "Old Glory" should wave in 
Pittsburg streets, even if borne there by only a corporal's 
guard, and that the country should see whether it was 
respected or defied. 

Everything was done with dispatch. When midnight 
arrived, our responses had all been received, and our 
documents were ready. Our messenger had found the 
President reclining on his lounge, awaiting the proclama- 
tion. He had read, approved, and signed it. The seal and 
attestation were appended. The Governor's call for 
troops had been received, acknowledged, and filed. The 
commanders of the troops reported their men in readiness 
to move at daybreak. The newspaper offices would hold 
back their presses, if need be, for the proclamation. The 
correspondents had assembled and had been furnished 
with the copies prepared for them, and with information 
of the "movements of troops. " 

Next morning, at their breakfast tables, the people of 
Washington, Baltimore, New York, Philadelphia, Harris- 
burg, and Pittsburg read in their newspapers the proclama- 
tion of the President, and the news that the United States 
Army was on its way to Pittsburg, and that its advance- 
guard would reach there early in the day. 



Outcome of a Fugitive Slave Case 445 

The leaders of the rioters now held their hurried con- 
sultations. Only a few squads of United States soldiers 
would arrive, but resistance of these involved a principle, 
and would mean a struggle thenceforward with the whole 
civil and military power of the United States. They 
decided that discretion was the better part of valour, and 
that rioters' proceedings should be postponed to a more 
favourable time. Pittsburg subsided at once into the 
quiet suitable to a summer's morning in a loyal town, 
even before the "advance-guard" arrived. 

A day or two later, President and Cabinet reassembled 
around the Cabinet council table at the White House and 
took the situation in charge. General Hancock was 
summoned to command, and authorized to use the whole 
Division of the Atlantic to restore law and order. When 
he arrived, with his little force of six hundred "Regulars, " 
they were as welcome in Pittsburg as the first regiments of 
volunteers had been in Washington in 1861. Peace pre- 
vailed at once. Rioters dispersed, and criminals slunk 
to their hiding places. Strikers returned to duty, and 
business was resumed as usual. 

1877. 

The Outcome of a Fugitive Slave Case. Attorney- 
General Devens came into my room one day and said, 
* * Do you remember the case of ' Thomas Sims ' in Boston ? " 

"Of course, " said I. "Wasn't that the one that stirred 
Boston so greatly? When chains were said to have been 
put around the State House and Faneuil Hall, and the 
church bells tolled as for a funeral, while they were taking 
the fugitive under military escort down to the wharf — 
amid the execrations and curses of the mob?" 

"Yes, " said he, "that was the one, and I was the mar- 
shal of the United States Court at that time. Much as I 
disliked the law, I considered it my official duty to execute 



44^ Outcome of a Fugitive Slave Case 

it, in spite of the resistance of the mob. I sent ' Sims ' off 
in charge of his owner. But I determined then to keep 
track of him, and to see if I could not get him released 
from slavery. 

"I found the place where he was taken, and raised the 
money to buy his freedom. When Mrs. Lydia Maria 
Child proposed to raise a similar fund, I wrote her a let- 
ter requesting her to return the sum she had collected 
for that purpose and that she allow me the privilege of 
paying the whole sum myself. But our efforts were 
fruitless, and the owner refused the offer. 

"Then the war came on and I went into it, as you may 
remember, in '6i." 

"Yes," said I, "you entered as a Major of Massachu- 
setts Rifles and ended as a Major-General in command of a 
Corps in '64, at Richmond." 

"Well," said he, "the war and the Emancipation Pro- 
clamation liberated ' Sims ' — and when you call to see me 
at the Attorney-General's office, you will find him on 
duty there." 

I did so and found the celebrated ex-slave smiling and 
respectful, and highly pleased with his position under the 
United States Government. 

I told General Devens that my recollections went even 
farther back than his — that I happened to be in the Senate 
chamber when Senator Mason rose in his place, next to 
John C. Calhoun, and read the provisions of the Fugitive 
Slave Law that he was about to offer. They were so 
drastic and vindictive, with pains and penalties, in 
commanding every man and woman in the North to 
become slave catchers, that I wondered at them. 

I was then only a law student, and I wondered that a 
grave Senator of the United States should not foresee that 
such an enactment would goad people to frenzy, and 
precipitate the very evils of disunion and civil war which 



jr^wpp''^ 




The Yorktown Centennial 447 

he professed to dread — for Mason, at that time, was not 
an avowed disunionist. I was then an ardent Whig, but 
three years later I saw the collapse of the Whig Party, 
which, as a cynical critic remarked, "died of an attempt 
to swallow the Fugitive Slave Law. " 

1879. 

Country Life. When I retired from office in 1879, my 
house in Washington was taken by the Swedish Govern- 
ment for its Legation. The Swedish Minister, Count 
Leuwenhaupt, was calling to see me. 

"And so you are expecting to go to live in the country, 
Mr. Seward ? What will you do in the country ? " 

" Oh, I don't know. Raise cabbages, probably. " 

"Ah, yes, — that is the conventional phrase — raising 
cabbages. It reminds me of our Queen of Sweden. One 
day, she said to her ladies-in-waiting: 'Oh, I am so sick 
and tired of these endless formalities and ceremonies of 
Court life ! I think sometimes I would like to go to live 
in the country and raise cabbages.' 

"But, your Majesty, " said one of the ladies, "is it not 
sometimes lonesome, — this living in the country, and 
raising cabbages?" 

' * ' No, indeed, ' said the Queen ; 'whoever has energy and 
independence enough to go to live in the country and raise 
cabbages, — can always find somebody to come and eat 
them.'" 

1881. 

President Arthur and the Yorktown Centennial. Among 
the long line of Sophomores, which we Freshmen were 
eagerly scanning on our first morning in the College Chapel 
at Schenectady in 1845, my attention was drawn to a tall 
fine-looking young man directly opposite. On inquiring 
who he was, I was told that he was Chester A. Arthur, 
the son of a clergyman. He had diligently prepared for 



44^ The Yorktown Centennial 

college, and had eked out his scanty funds for the purpose 
by teaching school at the same time. We became ac- 
quainted, and, having many tastes in common, became 
members of the same college society. 

Arthur was a popular class-man of pleasing address, 
fond of a joke, but a creditable student, and was especially 
active in college "politics, " as we used to call our contests 
for elections. Three years were spent together at Union. 
He graduated in 1848, and then we drifted apart to differ- 
ent places of residence. But I occasionally heard from 
him, first as a law-student, then as a successful lawyer in 
New York, and then as the head of his firm. And always 
as an active Republican. 

One evening in i860, just before his inauguration, 
Governor Morgan called at Mr. Weed's to consult him 
about the composition of his Military Staff, and desired 
to offer me a position on it. While I declined the honour 
for myself, I was glad to perceive that he had on his list 
the name of my former college friend, Arthur. He was 
to be Quartermaster-General. 

It was supposed that in time of peace this would be 
merely an honorary appointment. But with the out- 
break of the Civil War, soon afterwards, it became a 
highly important position, and General Arthur's services 
were invaluable in forwarding troops to the front, and in 
providing for their needs. 

After the war, when General Grant appointed Arthur 
to be Collector of the Port of New York, the appointment 
was generally regarded with favour. He occupied the 
post for about six years. 

It is needless to recount here the discords which sub- 
sequently arose in the Republican Party, — the unsuccess- 
ful attempt to renominate General Grant for a third time, 
and the Compromise in 1880 by which Garfield was 
nominated for President, with Arthur for Vice-President. 



The Yorktown Centennial 449 

They were elected, but had only a brief tenure of office, 
when the country was again horrified by the news of the 
assassination of President Garfield, by a madman. 

It was one of the ironies of fate that Arthur, always 
desirous of honourable distinction in poHtics, should have 
had the highest office in the land suddenly thrust upon 
him by the hand of an assassin. 

To a lady who came to greet him, soon after his acces- 
sion, he replied : ' ' No, madam, it is anything but a subject 
of congratulation. It was a hideous crime that I would 
have given worlds to prevent." 

In 188 1, it was thought proper in Washington to cele- 
brate the centennial anniversary of the Battle of York- 
town, the last great victory by which the colonies had 
assured their independence of Great Britain. Due pre- 
parations were made. Naval vessels were ordered to 
Chesapeake Bay. Troops were marched to the old 
battlefield. Localities of the old siege guns used by 
Washington and Lafayette were marked, and high offi- 
cials of the Government were expected to take part in 
the ceremonies. 

It was pre-eminently fitting to invite the French 
Government to participate in this celebration, as the 
success of the Americans in the struggle and the victory 
had so largely depended upon the aid given at that time 
by their French allies. 

The French Government heartily responded to Presi- 
dent Garfield's invitation. It was announced that a 
delegation had been appointed at Paris to proceed to 
Yorktown. Among its members were several bearing 
such well-known historic names as Lafayette and Rocham- 
beau, De Grasse and Steuben, who were the descendants 
of the illustrious heroes of the Revolution. General 
Boulanger was named as the head of the delegation. 

As the French delegates would doubtless sail by one of 

29 



450 The Yorktown Centennial 

the French Hners, to New York, it was also suggested that 
a Commission be appointed by the State of New York to 
receive them on landing, and finally to speed them on their 
way to Washington. 

It seldom happens that elaborately arranged festivities 
take place in the order intended, without some break or 
casualty. The tragic note in life too often reasserts itself 
at such times. While the European visitors were on their 
way to the joyful occasion, the President who had invited 
them was lying mortally wounded, on his death bed. The 
Capitol, which had expected to greet them with a round of 
balls and dinners, was plunged in deep grief, rendering the 
idea of hilarity an unsuitable mockery. 

When we of the New York Commission met, we were 
confronted with this new and changed situation. 

Among our members were John A. King, John Austin 
Stevens, Colonel William Jay, General James B. Varnum, 
General Francis Barlow, Cornelius Vanderbilt, Robert R. 
Livingston, W. W. Astor, and Lispenard Stewart. 

An unofficial message from the Secretary of State at 
Washington was received, intimating that the longer the 
stay of the French delegates in New York could be pro- 
tracted, the greater would be the relief experienced at 
Washington, in this unexpected season of gloom. Accord- 
ingly, we did our best to make their visit an enjoyable 
one. A handsome suite of apartments was prepared for 
them at the Fifth Avenue Hotel, and various projects 
for their entertainment were planned that would occupy 
two or three weeks. Fortunately there was no lack of 
co-operation in these efforts on the part of State and 
City authorities, local organizations and societies, and the 
general public. "The Spirit of '76" was again aroused. 
Revolutionary and patriotic emblems and pictures and 
traditions and memories were the fashion of the hour. 

The Commission went down in a body to welcome the 



The Yorktown Centennial 451 

French visitors when the steamer Canada bearing them 
was telegraphed. A steamboat took us out to meet her, 
and her progress up the bay was greeted by salutes, 
displays of the Tricolour with the Stars and Stripes, and 
complimentary addresses of welcome. 

At the Battery the Seventh Regiment was drawn up in 
line to escort their carriages up Broadway to the hotel 
amid the cheering crowd. Visitors, of course thronged 
there to greet them. 

A day or two later, Governor Cornell ordered a review 
of the First Division of the National Guard, which they 
witnessed from a stand erected near the Worth Monu- 
ment. A notable feature of this review was the fact that 
the regiments were drawn up in alternate cross streets, so 
as to fall into line in due succession. As each regiment 
had its band, the discord between these would have been 
bewildering, but for the happy idea that all should play 
the Marseillaise at the same time. 

On another day we invited our guests to make an excur- 
sion to West Point. Two frigates were furnished by the 
Government, the Vandalia and the Kearsarge, of which the 
nominal commands were given to John A. King and my- 
self respectively. The day was a fine one and we pointed 
out to our guests the various historic localities on the way. 
In Haverstraw Bay we gave them a collation, and at the 
close of it called them up on deck to show them the 
"King's Ferry." This, I told them, marked the real 
beginning of the Yorktown campaign, since it was at this 
point the French and American armies joined forces, and 
crossed the river, prior to beginning their march through 
New Jersey, Pennsylvania, and Maryland, toward York- 
town. At General Hancock's suggestion the engine was 
stopped, and the National Anthems of France and America 
were played, as we drifted by the ancient ferry. At West 
Point they were welcomed by General Howard, who was 



452 The Yorktown Centennial 

then in command there. A review of the Cadets was 
followed by evening festivities. 

Next in order was a trip to Niagara Falls. The Vander- 
bilts furnished a well appointed private car for the 
French guests, which waited there for them and brought 
them back after two or three days' sojourn. Part of the 
Commission accompanied them. 

The others remained in town in order to welcome Baron 
Steuben, who was coming on the German steamer, with 
other German officers. They were duly installed at the 
hotel. A dinner to them was followed by a review at 
Union Square of the various German organizations. In 
this Mayor Grace took part. The societies numbered 
several thousand, and some of the German regiments were 
bearing the tattered flags of the Civil War. 

By the time the French delegation had returned from 
Niagara, preparations were well under way for the great 
ball which was to close the series of entertainments in 
New York. Needless to say that this was brilliant and 
well attended. So also was the banquet given by the 
Chamber of Commerce. 

Meanwhile the Washington preparations for the cele- 
bration at Yorktown were making progress. But now 
arose a new complication, or the expectation of one. The 
whole Diplomatic Corps were of course to be invited to 
attend. But would the British consider it any courtesy 
to be invited to attend ceremonies based on the discom- 
fiture of their own nation ? Would they not rather be left 
out ? Or would they consider it a slight to be left out on 
such an occasion? The Secretary of State thought this 
was a time for a private diplomatic interview with the 
British Minister. He was politely asked whether he would 
prefer to have an invitation or not for his legation. He 
took it very good-humouredly. He said: "I suppose the 
British were there, one hundred years ago, or you would 



Taxation in New York 453 

have had nothing to celebrate. Yes, if you will invite us, 
we will all come, and we will listen, or not listen, with such 
equanimity as we can, to your recital of the misdeeds or 
misfortunes of our ancestors. " 

Not to be outdone in courtesy or magnanimity was the 
action of the President. After all the speeches had been 
made and the ceremonies performed and concluded, Presi- 
dent Arthur, from the desk of the flagship gave the order 
for the British ensign to be raised to the mainmast and 
saluted by every vessel of the fleet, saying: "In recogni- 
tion of the friendly relations so long and so happily sub- 
sisting between Great Britain and the United States, in 
the trust and confidence of peace and goodwill between 
the two countries, for all the centuries to come, and 
especially as a mark of the profound respect entertained 
by the American people for the illustrious sovereign and 
gracious lady who sits upon the British throne." 

So closed the Yorktown celebration. 

Taxation in New York. Andrew H. Green was so long 
prominent in the history and government of the city, and 
so wise in administrative measures, that he had earned 
the title in his later years of the "Father of Greater New 
York." 

My last interview with him was a year or two before his 
tragic death. He was then, I think, about eighty-seven 
years old, and, though stooping and emaciated, was alert 
and active. 

We talked of old times and people, of the many men, in 
both parties, with whom he had been associated, — of the 
vast improvements that had taken place, — of the careless 
or corrupt methods of finance, — of the spasmodic attempts 
at reform, — of the unrivalled advantages that the city 
possessed, and above all of its marvellous growth. 

A newspaper lay on the table before us, the whole of 



454 Taxation in New York 

one of its broad pages being filled with the annual report 
of some insurance or other Company. 

"Tell me, Mr. Green, " I said, taking up that big paper, 
"something which you can comprehend, but which I 
confess I cannot. Here is this great corporation which, 
by its report, shows it is well managed and profitable and 
pays all its own expenses. 

' ' Now, the city of New York is a corporation which has 
vastly more property and more resources, in the way of 
real estate, streets, franchises, docks and wharves, build- 
ings, rents, licenses, powers and privileges, than any other 
corporation possibly can have. And yet it cannot pay its 
own expenses ! It has to ask the individual taxpayer to go 
down into his pockets, and take out of his personal earn- 
ings a yearly contribution, in order to keep this gigantic 
corporation on its feet. Why should not the city of New 
York pay its own expenses? Why should the individual 
taxpayer be called upon at all?" 

He looked keenly at me, as I spoke, and then said: "Mr. 
Seward, you are right. The problem is one that I have 
worked over many years. The city of New York has 
given away more then enough to pay its expenses many 
times over. But the citizens of New York don't see it. 
Either because they are too careless, or too ignorant, or 
too unpatriotic, or don't care — whichever it is, the fact 
remains they don't correct it, or don't want to. " 

Here occurred an interruption. 

A clerk touched his arm and said: "Mr. Green, those 
Rapid Transit gentlemen are in session now, and they 
want you to come around there this afternoon! What 
shall I tell them?" 

Mr. Green turned to me and said, "There is an instance 
of what I was just l aying. Yes ! I will come round and 
try to do my best to stop the waste, but I don't know 
whether I can accomplish much. " 



Alaska Revisited. The Inland Passage 455 

July, 1902. 

Alaska Revisited. The Inland Passage. Here we are 

once more in Alaska! 

We are on board the steamer Spokane, and steaming 
through the waters of the famous "Inland Passage." 
Thirty-three years have passed since we were here before. 
What are the changes that time has wrought ? Certainly, 
the evergreen forests on the shores come down to the 
water's edge just as they used to do. The "everlasting 
hills" are the same. The distant ranges of snow-capped 
mountains have not changed in the least. 

The first change that we notice is that a "solemn still- 
ness" no longer "broods o'er the scene. " There are now 
indications of the bustle of commerce. Propellers and 
passenger steamers meet and salute us with steam whistles. 
Some vessels are passing every hour. Buoys and beacons 
show that the channel has been surveyed and is no longer 
unknown. Our decks and spacious "observation room" 
are occupied by our passengers eager to observe the 
scenery of which they have heard so much. 

We have cruised all day through the waters of British 
Columbia, and have now traversed the "open water" of 
Queen Charlotte Sound. Before us looms up the "Dixon 
Entrance" admitting us again to the territory of the 
United States. No especial landmark shows where the 
boundary is, but we gather on the hurricane deck, to 
salute the flag and give it three cheers, in token that we 
are once more in our own country. 

Captain Lloyd notified us that if we have any letters to 
mail there is an American post-office at Ketchikan where 
we shall stop in the evening. This is another novelty. 
There was neither post-office nor village here thirty-three 
years ago. Several new buildings are pointed out as 
' ' salmon canneries. ' ' 



456 Wrangel 

Our Passengers. Our party consists of eleven persons, 
guests of our old friend Mr. Samuel R. Thayer. Mrs. 
Seward, Miss Barnes, and I joined the others at Minnea- 
polis. They were : Warner Miller and his daughter, Mr. 
and Mrs. George W. Thayer of Rochester, Mr. Rufus H. 
Thayer of Washington, Mr. Rodman and Mr. Bradstreet 
of Minneapolis. Mr. and Mrs. Samuel Hill joined us at 
Seattle. To Mr. James J. Hill's courtesy we are indebted 
for the special car, which brought us over the Great North- 
ern Railroad. 

On board the Spokane there are about a hundred other 
passengers from the East and from California — tourists, 
pleasure seekers, and business men. It sounds odd to 
have the latter speak glibly of different points in Alaska, 
and down the Yukon Valley, to which they are bound. 
When we recall that the whole territory was a vast un- 
explored region only thirty-three years ago, it is difficult 
to realize that these towns and villages have a real exist- 
ence. 

Wrangel. Here is Wrangel! "Fort Wrangel" it used 
to be, but there are no signs of the frowning guns that once 
guarded "The Passage" at this point. Instead there is a 
substantial dock and a neat village along the shore. We 
land, and Mr. Thayer and I set out to explore the place. 
Meeting a well-dressed man on the street, Mr. Thayer 
inquires "Are you a resident here? " 

"Yes, " is the reply, "and have been for several years." 

"What has become of the old Fort?" 

"It used to be out there, on the promontory, but the 
Government abandoned it sometime ago, not needing it 
any longer." 

"And the Indian lodges, what became of them?" 

"Oh! after the Fort was abandoned, the Indians came 
away too; they all moved into town. " 



Sitka 457 

"Rather an unruly lot, weren't they?" 

"Yes, but that was when they were uncivilized; they 
are all good citizens now." 

"What do they do?" 

"They all have their various trades. The children go to 
school, and they to church. Bible classes and Christian 
Endeavour are favourite occupations with them now. 
Some of them are very well to do. " 

"Where do they live?" 

"Oh, everywhere. That double cottage with a rose 
vine over the door belongs to an Indian. That motor boat, 
in the bay, belongs to another. " 

Much enlightened, we resume our voyage. 

Sitka. Sitka! This is indeed familiar ground. The 
towering mountains, the magnificent harbour with its 
clustering islands, are all that they used to be. We iden- 
tify Mount Edgecumbe and others. But the town itself 
has spread along the shore in both directions. And where 
is the Indian village? 

"That is it, along the north shore." 

A row of neat white houses like those of a New Eng- 
land village has taken the place of the old lodges and 
wigwams. 

We land, and proceed up the well remembered streets, 
with the Greek Church at the head of one. We inquire for 
Governor Brady's house. We find he is not at home, but 
we make the acquaintance of Mrs. Brady and her sister. 
The Governor is making his usual summer tour at the 
north. The ladies invite us in, and then sally out with us, 
to show us the changes that have come over Sitka in 
thirty-three years. 

The Baranoff Castle on the high rock is gone, and in 
place of it stands a modern structure which we are told is 
the Agricultural College. There are numerous churches, 



458 Sitka 

Presbyterian, Episcopalian, Swedish, and others, with 
industrial and other schools attached to nearly all of them. 
A large edifice is the Museum, founded by Dr. Sheldon 
Jackson, whom we are sorry not to see, as he is gone, like 
the Governor, on a trip to the north connected with his 
educational and missionary work. 

In this Museum are many interesting carvings of the 
Hydahs, implements and weapons of the Thlinkets, the 
Kalosh, and the Chilkats, canoes of the several tribes, 
baidarkas of the Esquimaux, and a reindeer sledge like 
those of Lapland. It is fortunate that the Doctor had the 
foresight to commence this collection while it is still 
possible, for the Indian relics will be rapidly disappearing 
with the progress of time. We could spend hours in this 
Museum, if we had them, but our time is limited in Sitka 
now. 

Out in the streets again, we find some of the old Russian 
houses, built of squared logs, are standing; but all the 
new buildings are modern frame structures. There are 
several tasteful country residences, which are occupied 
by their owners or visitors from the south. Mrs. Brady 
takes us out to a park, in the suburbs, which the authori- 
ties have decorated with the tallest and most massive of 
totem poles. We notice that the roads are straightened 
and that there are no animals running in them, improve- 
ments due, as Mrs. Brady tells us, to the efforts of the 
Village Improvement Society. 

On our way back, we come across the school children, 
of whom there seem to be several hundred. They are 
neatly dressed, and for the most part with air and com- 
plexion like other school children in the northern States, 
though occasionally the darker hue of some of them de- 
notes their Esquimau or Indian parentage. 

We stopped to converse with some of them, and to recall 
some of the phrases of the Chinook jargon, which we took 



Sitka 459 

some pains to learn several years ago, as it was then the 
only mode of communication in vogue in the Territory. 
The youngsters look at us with open eyes and shake their 
heads. One of the missionary teachers laughingly says: 
"They know good English, and do not know the Chinook 
jargon, — some have not heard of it, and those who have, 
consider it 'low down talk.'" 

Pausing in front of a Russian house, I say: "This is Mr. 
Dodge's house, where we spent a fortnight thirty-three 
years ago. It is still standing, though I do not know its 
present occupants. Let us consider it our ' old homestead ' 
in Sitka, and take a photograph of it and ourselves." 
While engaged in this, several townspeople gather around 
us and I interrogate them : "Were any of you here, thirty- 
three years ago? I want to see the oldest inhabitant." 
But no one would own to such long residence. One man 
says: "I came here twenty-eight years ago and I thought 
I was the oldest inhabitant." 

At the Greek Church we found everything looking as 
of old, except that it was newly renovated, cleaned, and 
repaired, which the custodian added was due to the Bishop 
and the Government at St. Petersburg. He displayed with 
pardonable pride the gorgeous vestments worn by the 
dignitaries of the church. 

He furthermore informed us that he claimed the dis- 
tinction of having neither been born nor naturalized in 
the United States, but was nevertheless a citizen. He had 
been transferred by the treaty of purchase of the Territory, 
which contained a clause saying that any Russian who 
chose to remain should thereby be considered entitled to 
the privileges of American citizenship. 

An hour or two was spent at the Governor's looking at a 
collection of water-colour pictures of Alaskan localities, 
and chatting over the changes and prospects of the Terri- 
tory. We noted that the flowers that were brought us 



460 The Tredwell Mine 

in profusion, from different gardens, were much like those 
of our own garden at home. 

On our way to the steamer we found some of our fellow 
passengers bargaining with a group of Indian women, 
blanketed as of old, who were selling curios. Here were 
neat and pretty little totem poles, canoes and carvings, 
and weapons fresh and newly painted, but all of miniature 
size, — in fact, convenient for packing in trunks or dress- 
suit cases. Evidently these were for tourists, not for 
Indian use. The story was told, but we do not vouch for 
the truth of it, that the supply from Indian sources being 
insufficient to meet the demand from travellers, an enter- 
prising firm in Connecticut had taken the manufacture in 
hand, and sent them on to Alaska for the Indians to sell. 

Glaciers. The tossing cakes of ice around us this 
morning are of a brilliant blue colour, a phenomenon that 
no one seems able to explain. These are from the Taku 
Glacier. We inquire if we shall see the Muir Glacier. The 
captain says, "Yes, but not too near, as the falling masses 
of ice sometimes make it dangerous for a vessel in the 
vicinity. " But we get a fine view of it. 

Then the much mooted question comes up : whether the 
glaciers, on the whole, are receding or not? The general 
opinion appears to be that some certainly have receded, 
while others apparently have remained unchanged. 

The Tredwell Mine. The steamer comes to a pause, in 
the midst of a deafening din from the shore, at the next 
landing. The captain shouts out that this is "Douglas 
Island, " and that the noise we hear is made by the trip- 
hammers of the "Tredwell Gold Mine." 

We debark to look at the machinery of the stamp mill 
from a respectful distance. We are told that this is the 
largest stamp mill in the world. Although the ore is of 



Skagway 461 

low grade, the company is said to be satisfied if they can 
get three or four dollars in gold from a ton. Yet some- 
times it yields two or three times as much. 

Already they have thus pulverized a considerable part 
of one mountain. But there look to be plenty more 
mountains of the same sort standing close at hand. 

Juneau. " It is a pity that we shall get to Juneau in the 
middle of the night," say we. But the middle of the 
night turns out not to be dark, or even dusk, in Alaska 
at this season. As the steamer makes the landing at 
eleven o'clock, the town is revealed to us in very good 
daylight ; the townspeople muster on the wharf to inquire 
for news, or to greet friends. 

We, the passengers, are equally eager to see the town. 
So we proceed up the street, and find places of business 
open, and people going to and fro as if it were noon instead 
of midnight. We ramble through various streets, one of 
which we are informed is "Seward Street," and some of 
which seem to be built on piers or piles in the water. 

This is a growing town, and its transition state is some- 
what bewildering to the observer. All of the buildings are 
frame edifices, and some of them have been very hastily 
erected. The townspeople, however, have great expecta- 
tions, and high hopes. They say that here was the first 
discovery of gold. They confidently look forward to its 
becoming the capital of the Territory. 

Skagway. Skagway is the ultima thule of our navigable 
voyage. As we approach it up the broad reaches of the 
Lynn Channel, we see its long piers pushing out into the 
water. Signs of business activity on them prove it to be a 
commercial port of importance. 

Here begins the White Pass Railroad, the first in the 
Territory. We land and walk up the street and find the 



462 The White Pass Railroad 

rails laid in the centre of it. Freight and passenger cars 
are standing on the track. 

We recall how within our own remembrance there was 
no trail over the mountains and into the wilderness. 
Klakautch, the Chilkat Chief, was then asked about it, 
and v/e learned from him that there were Indians on the 
other side of the mountains, who held intercourse and 
traffic in furs with the Chilkats, but who were not allowed 
to come down to the coast. He made a map of the trail 
in Indian fashion, on a bearskin, indicating the trail by 
two rows of footprints running over the mountain. 

"Is Klakautch still living?" is inquired. 

"No," is the answer, "but his family are well known, 
and his son has a position in the Custom House, yonder." 

The White Pass Railroad. Was there ever such a daring 
piece of engineering as this White Pass Railroad ? Begin- 
ning on the level of the street, and running smoothly for a 
mile or two, it gradually climbs the side of the mountain. 
Then it speeds toward precipitous cliffs, around dizzy 
curves, and on the edge of unfathomable abysses, until 
you imagine the train cannot possibly find a foothold 
among the jagged rocks that beset it on every side. The 
train comes to a sudden stop in the midst of this chaotic 
scene. We are looking where to jump and wondering 
whether there is anything to jump on, when the conductor 
blandly informs us, "It is all right. We always stop here, 
in order to give the ladies an opportunity to take a snap- 
shot with their cameras. " 

Resuming our tortuous course and steadily going on, and 
up, at last we reach a level plateau, and are told this is the 
summit of the Pass. It is also the boundary line between 
Alaska and British America. Two little custom houses, 
one for Great Britain and one for the United States, mark 
the frontier, each surmounted by its national flag. 



The Alaska Boundary Dispute 463 

Looking off toward the north, we see the ranges of 
mountains gradually diminishing in height, until the valley 
of the Yukon is reached. Some of our passengers who have 
business at Dawson, or are expecting to take one of the 
steamboats down the Yukon River, now continue on the 
railway. We go back on our train, and on the way Mr. 
Brackett points out the old wagon road, which was made 
at great trouble and expense, in the time of the first rush 
of miners and prospectors. Now it is abandoned and 
superseded by the railroad. The railroad is said to be 
highly prosperous, having now a practical monopoly of the 
traffic to and from the gold region. 

The Alaska Boundary Dispute. If it be true that the 
Americans for many years remained singularly incredulous 
and indifferent to the value of the great Territory that we 
purchased from Russia in 1867, it cannot be said that our 
Canadian neighbours have shared in that feeling. From 
the first, they have shown an appreciation of it, and once 
or twice the restless and reckless element of their people 
have manifested a covetous desire to get hold of a part of 
it, and add it to the Canadian Dominion. 

In 1902, when visiting Alaska, we found some of the 
inhabitants of Skagway seriously alarmed lest they should 
be practically "gobbled up" by the Canadians, who were 
putting forward a claim to own their harbour and a con- 
siderable slice of their Territory. 

Returning home, I found that the movement had taken 
such definite shape, that maps were prepared and spread 
abroad from Ottawa, by which it appeared that we not 
only had no claim to Skagway or Dyea, but that Canada 
rightfully owned all of the mainland on the Lynn Canal, 
and that our boundary only took in part of the islands of 
the sea! I wrote a letter to the Tribune, calling public 
attention to the fact, as follows : 



464 The Alaska Boundary Dispute 

"a menace from CANADA 

** Mr. Seward Believes that the Alaskan Boundary Dispute 
Endangers International Good Feeling. 

"Very few people either in England or the United 
States seem to comprehend the 'true inwardness' of the 
so-called 'Alaska Boundary Dispute.' That is unfortunate, 
for it contains the germ of a grave national danger. The 
average newspaper reader supposes it to be a dispute over 
a few acres or square miles of wild land, perhaps frozen, on 
either side of an imaginary line. But it is not a boundary 
dispute of that sort. The boundary was established years 
ago by treaties in which both nations took part. What the 
Canadian schemers are pushing for now is 'an outlet to 
tidewater ' by means of a harbour on the Lynn Canal. 

"What is the Lynn Canal? It is a great estuary, broad 
and deep, like the lower Hudson or the Delaware. It 
traverses Southern Alaska and is the chief artery of com- 
merce. It is the thoroughfare by which all traders, miners 
and travellers reach the valley of the Yukon, unless they 
make a two-thousand-mile voyage around by the ocean. 

"What is the harbour that the Canadian schemers 
covet ? It is one of the most important strategic points on 
our Pacific Coast. It is a deep, wide, semicircular basin, 
safe in all weathers, open to navigation all the year round, 
with easy access to the sea, large enough to float not only 
trading craft, but the cruisers and battleships of the 
British navy. It is surrounded by mountain heights which, 
when fortified, would render it impregnable. In a word, 
what they want is to establish a naval and commercial 
port for Great Britain, resembling Gibraltar or Aden — and 
to establish it in the heart of an American Territory, at 
the head of its inland navigation! The power owning 
such a stronghold might well claim to dominate the North 



The Alaska Boundary Dispute 465 

Pacific. It would cut Alaska Territory in two parts, with 
British forts and custom houses between, controlling their 
intercourse with each other and with the outside world. 
Compared with such a stronghold Esquimault or Halifax 
is of minor consequence. That port is the objective point 
that Canadian schemers are working for. That is what 
they hope to extort from us by threats or cajolery. They 
know what they are about ; apparently we do not ; at least 
they hope so. So they muddle the question with specious 
pretences of harmless purpose, by which to 'outwit the 
Yankees.' 

"When this monstrous demand, without a shadow of 
foundation, was first put forward it brought to a sudden 
check the work of the Joint High Commission to settle 
questions between Canada and the United States. If 
persisted in it will do more than that. It will tend to 
break up the present era of good feeling between the two 
branches of the English-speaking race — an era so full of 
promise for both nations and for the whole civilized world. 

* ' The whole ' claim ' is so preposterous and absurd that 
it would hardly be credible if we did not know how silly 
and blind to their own interests great governments may 
sometimes be. The Canadian 'statesmen' who are press- 
ing it are blind leaders of the blind. They are like children 
playing with fire. They do not realize the far-reaching 
consequences of the conflagration they are trying to kindle. 
For it is not to be believed that the American people, 
when roused to an understanding of the question, are 
ever going to acquiesce in the construction of a Gibraltar 
in their own waters by any foreign power. American 
patience is great and American good nature is proverbial, 
but even these have limits. 

"Frederick W. Seward. 

" Montrose-on-Hudson, 
November, 1902." 
30 



466 The Alaska Boundary Dispute 

This letter was widely copied and commented upon, 
especially in the northwestern States. Soon the subject 
became one of general discussion by the press. Ulti- 
mately it became a topic of debate in Congress. Both 
Governments perceived that it would be necessary to take 
action in regard to it. 

A semi-official answer was published by the Government 
at Ottawa, arguing that, as there were conflicting claims 
between Great Britain and the United States, the subject 
would be a proper one for arbitration. To this I prepared 
an equally elaborate reply. 

The Tribune said: "Three noteworthy contributions 
to the Alaska boundary discussion have recently appeared 
in our columns. These were a brief statement of the 
American case by Mr. Frederick W. Seward, a reply by 
Mr. F. C. T. O'Hara, and a rejoinder by Mr. Seward. 
These letters were weighty with authority, for Mr. 
Seward, the son and official aide of the Secretary of State 
who negotiated the Alaska purchase, is a past master of 
the American side of the controversy, while Mr. O'Hara, as 
Secretary to a Canadian Cabinet officer, may be supposed 
to be an adequate exponent of the Canadian side. Between 
the two, our readers will doubtless have judged for them- 
selves. That the decision of the vast majority of Ameri- 
cans is on Mr. Seward's side, is beyond doubt. " 

Frequent conferences were now held between Secretary 
Hay and the British Minister at Washington. The final 
outcome of their deliberations was the agreement to hold a 
"Joint Alaska Boundary Commission" during the coming 
season. 

The Commission was duly held — its official title was, 
"The Alaskan Boundary Tribunal. " Six members com- 
posed it, three for each side. The American members 
were ex-Secretary Elihu Root, and Senators Henry Cabot 
Lodge and George Turner. Two Canadians, Sir Louis 



The Alaska Boundary Dispute 467 

Amale Jette, Lieutenant-Governor of Quebec, and Allen 
Bristol Aylesworth, one of his Majesty's Counsel. The 
British Government reserved to itself the right to appoint 
the third member, and it selected for that place Lord 
Alverstone, Lord Chief Justice of England, a jurist of such 
wide experience and unimpeachable integrity that it was 
felt no one could question his impartiality. 

The sessions were held in 1903. The case for the United 
States was very elaborately prepared by Mr. John W. 
Foster, ex-Secretary of State, and the chief argument for 
it was presented by Elihu Root. 

When the Tribunal rendered its decision, in October, 
Lord Alverstone took the same ground as the Americans, 
that the true boundary was that laid down in the Treaty 
of Purchase in 1867. The two Canadian members adhered 
to their claim, but the decision of the majority of four to 
two was in favour of the American side. 

Perhaps my comment on the decision may have interest 
enough to warrant its insertion here : 

"the ALASKAN DECISION 

"7^. W. Seward Says Both Nations are to be Congratulated. 

"Both nations have reason for congratulation. 

* ' The Americans are to be congratulated that their title 
is reaffirmed and no longer disputed as to the region which 
they bought from Russia, and which has been held and 
occupied by them and the Russians before them ever 
since the day of its first discovery. 

"The British are to be congratulated that they did not 
win their contention, nor even stubbornly insist upon it 
to the point of a 'deadlock.' Their wisdom, tact, and 
statesmanship were manifested through the Lord Chief 
Justice, though his two Canadian associates seem to have 
been unable to follow him. To have obtained possession 
of a harbour and town built, owned, and occupied by 



468 The Alaska Boundary Dispute 

Americans for thirty years would have been to England 
a most unprofitable victory. Skagway would then have 
been between Great Britain and the United States what 
Strassburg has been between France and Germany, a 
perpetually rankling thorn. It would have put an end to 
that international friendship on which both nations are 
building such high hopes. 

"It was natural, perhaps, that the provincial ambition 
of the Canadians should have been captivated by the 
fancy of getting one of our harbours for their outlet from 
Klondike to the sea, and, perhaps, natural that they 
should be blind to the consequences of their own project. 
But the idea was largely a fanciful one. 

"During long centuries it has been the habit of nations 
to hold on to whatever they could grasp by fair means or 
foul until compelled to disgorge by force or the fear of it. 
It has been reserved for two nations which are but two 
branches of one great race to lift international dealing to a 
higher plane and to seek to decide questions in accordance 
with justice and equity, regardless of national sentiment 
or prejudice. We have proved it thrice. In the Trent 
case, the Alabama Claims case, and now in the Alaska 
Boundary case, we have shown that we can afford to relin- 
quish to each other anything not justly belonging to us, 
whether prisoners, land, or money. Two nations actuated 
by this disposition, and ready to carry it into practical 
effect, can hardly be dragged into war, since they them- 
selves are their own high court of equity. The Alaska 
Boundary decision seems, therefore, a guarantee of per- 
petual peace between Great Britain and the United States, 
and that is a step onward in the march of progress and 
civilization worthy of the opening of the twentieth century. 

"Frederick W. Seward. 

" Montrose-on-Hudson, 
October 21, 1903." 



Hudson Centennial Celebrations 469 

Hudson Centennial Celebrations. When one hun- 
dred years had elapsed after Hudson's discovery of 
the river, the people of the province of New York 
did not hold any celebration. They were too much 
absorbed in their own doings and those of their Colonial 
Governors, to bestow much thought on those of Henry 
Hudson. 

But when a second century had rolled by. New York 
had become an independent State and a part of the 
Federal Union. Then the anniversary of the discovery was 
deemed worthy of celebration. Under the auspices of 
the then newly organized Historical Society, orations were 
delivered at the City Hall, a banquet followed at the City 
Hotel, at which Governor Tompkins presided and Mayor 
DeWitt Clinton was an invited guest. Especial stress was 
laid upon the fact that to Henry Hudson they also owed 
the best dishes of the feast, — the oysters and fish that he 
discovered in the river, the wild ducks and pigeons that 
he found flying over it, and the Indian corn and "succo- 
tash" that he found growing on its banks. 

Simeon DeWitt, who was then Surveyor-General, 
proposed the toast : 

"May our successors, a century hence, celebrate the 
same great event, which we this day commemorate. " 

When Simeon De Witt offered that toast, he was a true 
prophet. But his foresight did not extend as far as to 
know that the next anniversary would be a double one, 
and that the hero who would divide its honours with 
Henry Hudson would be the young artist-inventor, Robert 
Fulton, who married the niece of his friend Chancellor 
Livingston, and who had just devised a new-fangled craft 
to go without oars or sails, but belching fire and smoke! 
Indeed, it was one of the jests at the dinner table, that a 
frightened farmer, looking over the edge of the Palisades, 
was asked what it was that he saw. He said he did not 



470 Hudson Centennial Celebrations 

know, but he believed "it was the Devil on his way to 
Albany, on a saw-mill!" 

When the next hundred years had rolled away, the tri- 
centennial "Hudson-Fulton Celebration" of 1909 occurred. 
There is no need to relate here who organized and con- 
ducted it, or to recount its sayings and doings. Are they 
not all fully and faithfully set down, recorded, and illus- 
trated in the two large volumes of the Report to the 
Legislature, prepared by Dr. Edward Hagaman Hall, the 
Assistant Secretary of the Commission? Suffice it to say 
that the celebration was a memorable one, a hundred and 
sixty miles long, and sixteen days broad, — and that it was 
worthy of the great events it commemorated. Many 
thousands participated in it, and millions witnessed it 
from the banks of the historic stream. 



EPILOGUE 

History and Memory. Napoleon at Saint Helena was 
reading over a file of newspapers, just received by an 
English ship. 

"Las Cases, " said he, to liis secretary, "we have always 
supposed that history was the record of past events. I 
perceive it is not so. It is only a compilation of the 
statements given out concerning those events. " 

This philosophic truth is worth bearing in mind, by 
readers of history, and writers of it. But what then? 
Oral tradition is discredited, because human memories 
are deemed unreliable, unless corroborated by some sort of 
documentary evidence. If the documentary evidence 
cannot be relied on, what can? 

The simple fact seems to be this. Memory supplies us 
with successive pictures of past scenes. Like the photo- 
graph she aims to be exactly truthful, and, like the photo- 
graph, her pictures are often more impressive than the 
reality, because minor details and outside surroundings 
are excluded. But that is Memory's limit. Of dates and 
names she is proverbially careless, and her worst errors are 
made when she tries to reconcile her own vivid impres- 
sions with somebody else's hearsay testimony. 

Let whoso would write or read reminiscences, govern 
himself accordingly. 



471 



INDEX 



Abdul Aziz, 382 

Abdul Medjid, 382 

Abolition, 69 

Academy of Music at N. Y., 219 

Academy of the Visitation, The, 81 

Acapulco, 414 

Acquia Creek, 229, 232, 266 

Active, Steamship, 383 

Aculzingo, 417 

Adams, Charles Francis, 69, 180 

Adams, John Quincy, 56, 141, 142, 

359 

Aden, The port of, 300 

Msop's Fables, 32 

Alabama, The, 214, 250, 468 

Alabama claims case, 468 

Alameda, The, 411 

Alaska, the story of, 356; expedition 
to» 357; boundary disputes, 359; 
Treaty of Purchase, 360; transfer 
of, 364; the " Great Tyee" in, 383 ; 
purchase of, 422, 439, 455; boun- 
dary dispute, 463 

Albany, journey to, 2; Governor's 
Mansion at, 24; Evening Journal, 
84, 93, no; life in, 95; Kossuth in, 
98; diplomats at, 237; capitol at, 
430 

Aleutia, 364 

Alexandria, Confederates at, 156; 
the army near, 206 ; peace at, 229 

Alice Vivian, The, 269 

Almy, Mrs., 330 

Altamirano, Senor, 413 

Alverstone, Lord, 467 

Alvord, Lieut.-Gov., 430 

Amistad slaves, The, 81 

Amory, Colonel, 51 

Andr6, Major, Hanging of, 8 

Andrew, The case of the negro, 113 

Annapolis, 71st Regiment at, 159 

Anticosti, Voyage to, 115, 120 

Antietam, Victory at, 212 



Antillon, Governor, 405 

Apam, 415 

Apia harbour, 437, 441 

Arabia, Coffee of, 295 

Arabian Nights, The, 288 

Arago, The, 197 

Archer, Sheriff, 49 

Argus, The, 31 

Arkansas Post, Capture of, 212 

Army, Losses in the, 207 

Army of the Potomac, at Richmond, 
175, 206, 208, 212, 228, 237; 
space occupied by the, 232; re- 
organization of, 250 

Army of Virginia, The, 206, 251 

Arnold, Benedict, 8 

Arroyo Sarco, 408 

Arsenal Wharf, The, 228, 236 

Arthur, President, 447, 449 

Ashburton, Lord, 141 

Asiatic Cipango, The, 302 

Assassins, The, attack on Seward, 
259; murder of Lincoln, 260; 
capture of, 261 

Astor, W. W., 450 

Atenquiqui, 396 

Atlanta, The fall of, 250 

Atlantic cable. The, 142 

Auburn, journey from, 2; Henry 
Clay visits, 22; railroad to, 35; 
theatre at, 37; applicants for 
pardons at, 38; the prison at, 40; 
silk culture at, 43 ; Harding at, 54; 
J. Q. Adams at, 56; Seward's cane, 
145; diplomats at, 237; Chinese 
Envoys at, 379; home at, 429 

Augur, General, 250 

Augustus, 246 

Averill, General, 250 

Aylesworth, A. B., 467 

Aztec Calendar Stone, The, 410 

Aztec memorials, 410 



Baez, President, 309 



473 



474 



Index 



Bagot, Sir Charles, 25, 359 

Bahamas, The, 282, 325 

Bailey, Dr., 114 

Baker, Edward D., 72 

Baker, Mr., 369 

Baker, Seward's Works, by, 172 

Balluzek, Minister, 380 

Baltimore, mobs in, 155; the appeal 
to, 206; retreat from, 249 

Baltimore Plot, The, 134 

Banana culture, 296 

Banks, General, 175, 177, 243, 365 

Baranoff Castle, 457 

Baranoflf, Governor, 358 

Barbary Corsairs, The, 141, 220 

Barbary Powers, The, 431 

Barlow, Gen. Francis, 450 

Barn-Burners, The, 90 

Barnes, Miss, 456 

Barnes, William, 99 

Barnum's Circus, 37 

Barron, Mr., 414 

Batavia, Coffee at, 295 

Bates, AttorneyrGeneral, 195 

Beaufort, Evacuation of, 194 

Beaumont, Capt. de, 115, 122 

Bedford, Village of, 4; burning 
of, 6 

Beecher, Henry Ward, 96 

Behring Strait, The, 218 

Belen Gate, The, 411 

Belgium, 216 

Bell, John, 70, 75, 79, 80 

Belle Plain, 266 

Bellows, Dr., 104 

Bement's Hotel, 2 

Benedict, Colonel, 51 

Benedict, Lewis, 26 

Benton, Colonel, 70, 77 

Bering, Capt. Vitus, 357 

Bermuda Hundred, 250 

Bermuda, Island of, 282 

Berrien, 70, 79 

Berthemy, Minister, 380 

Bertinatti, Commander, 236, 422 

Bethune, Dr., 96 

Bible, The, 66 

Bic, The Island of, 128 

Bigelow, John, Diary of, 366 

Bishop, Madame, 96 

Black, Attorney-General, 142 

Blackbeard's Castle, 289 

Blair, Montgomery, Postmaster- 
General, 238, 245 

Blatchford, R. M., 26, 54, 93, 160 

Blatchford, Samuel, 26, 50 

Blockade, proclamation of, 160; 



trouble over the, 215; lifting the, 
252 

Blondinat Niagara, 132 

Bloodgood, Major William, 51 

Blue Room, The, 322 

Bodisco, Mr., 363 

Bolivar, Greeting to, 141 

Booth, Escape of, 266 

Border Ruffians, The, 91 

Bossero, Luis G., 403, 420 

Boston, Mason and Slidell in, 186 

Boston Post Road, The, 5 

Boulanger, General, 449 

Bowen, Col. James, 26, 51 

Bowling Green, Occupation of, 194 

Boyd, Linn, 71 

Boyer, President, 322 

Braddock's defeat, 11 

Bradstreet, Mr., 456 

Brady, Governor, 457 

Brant, Pursuit of, 20 

Brazilian Legation, The, 184 

Breckinridge, General, 243, 245 

Brice, James, 269 

British Legation, The, 214 

British, Seizures by the, 141 

British sympathy for the Con- 
federacy, 212 

Brody, Dr., 297 

" Brother Jonathan," The, 34 

Brown, Albert J., 71 

Brown, Captain, 375 

Brown, John, capture of, 131; 
portrait of, 322 

Brown's Hotel, 377 

Bruce, Sir Frederick, 257, 375, 380 

Bryant, William C, 431 

Buccaneers, The, 293 

Buchanan, campaign of, 91 ; 
Secretary, 141; President, 142 

Buddha, Statue of, 373 

Buffalo, N. Y., Theatre, 36; Adams 
at, 57; convention at, 69; har- 
bour of, 237 

Bulldog Affair, The, 270 

Bull-fights, 402 

Bull Run, The battle of, 181 

Bulwer, Lady, 130 

Bulwer, Sir Henry, 81, 130 

Burgesses Corps, The, 51 

Burke, Capt. Martin, 192 

Burlingame, Anson, 151, 375, 380 

Burnside, Gen., expedition of, 193; 
Newbern captured by, 194; 212, 
237, 243 

Burt, Col. James C, 47 

Butler, General, 159, 194, 250 



Index 



475 



Butler, John, 264 
Butterfield, General, 161, 230 

Cabral, General, 310, 350, 382 

Cadiz, Consul at, 220 

Calderon, 382 

Calhoun, John C, 141, 446; 

speech by, 75; death of, 79; 

son of, 104 
California, admission of, 73, 77, 83; 

acquisition of, 141 
Cameron, Secretary, 163 
Campbell, Lewis D., 71 
Campbell, Rev. Dr., 56 
Campeachy, 294 
Canada, Steamer, 451 
Canal debt. The, 27 
Canandaigua, Adams at, 57 
Canedo, Jacinto, 391, 403 
Canning, Stratford, 359 
Canova, Statues by, 409 
Cape Charles, 270 
Cape Haytien, 269 
Cape Henry, 270 
Cape May, 236 
Capitol at Washington, 17, 68 
Caribbean Sea, The, 279 
Caribs, The, 279 
Carlin, Portrait by, 28 
Carlisle Barracks, 443 
Carlotta, Empress, 382 
Carnival of Venice, The, 97 
Carrie Martin, The, 229, 232, 235 
Carter, David A., 71 
Carthagena, 294 
Cary, Uncle, 2 
Cass, General, 69; resignation of, 

142 

Catharine , The case of, 40 

Catherine, Empress, 357 
Catinat, The yacht, 182 
Cavour, Count, 90, 130, 382 
Cayuga, Lake, 9, 237; Creek, 9; 

bridge, 22 
Cayutlan, Lake, 391 
Cazneau, Mr., 309, 313, 327 
Cedar Creek, Victory at, 250 
Celaya, 406 
Central America, Representative of, 

237 
Cerro de las Campanas, 407 
Chalco, Lake, 411 
Chamber of Commerce, The, 452 
Chambersburg, 11 
Chancellorsville, Battle of, 238 
Chandler, Captain, 347 
Chapala, Lake, 397 



Chapultepec, castle of, 409, 412; 

battle of, 411 

Charles, The negro, 23 

Charles IL, Proclamation of, 401 

Charles IV., 409 

Charleston, firing from, 151; ob- 
structing harbour of, 215; shelling 
of, 243 

Charlotte Amalia, Queen, 300 

Chartres, Due de, 183 

Chase, Salmon P., 113 

Chase, Senator, 79 

Chattahoochee, Johnston at, 250 

Chattanooga, Rosecrans at, 243 

Chew, Chief Clerk, 362 

Chicago, 111., 108 

Chih Kang, 376 

Child, Lydia M., 446 

Children, Society for Prevention of 
Cruelty to, 431 

Chilkat Indians, 458 

Chilkat River, The, 383 

China, indemnity from, 370; 
enters diplomacy, 375; treaty 
with, 378 

Chinese labour, 335 

Chinook jargon, 459 

Chippewa, The battle of, 169 

Chiquihuite Pass, 418 

Cholula, Pyramid of, 416 

Christian IX., King, 382 

Christiania, Pa., 108 

Christianstedt, 304 

Christmas at Auburn, 3 

Churubusco, Battle of, 411 

Cigarettes, Manufacture of, 337 

Cinco de Mayo, Holiday of, 416 

Circo de Chiarini, The, 412 

Circular Dispatch, The, 172 

Circular on Military Situation, 205, 

251 

Citizens' Corps, The, 51 

City of Baltimore, Steamer, 195 

Civil War, Beginnings of the, 150, 

157 
Clarendon, Lord, 129 
Clark, Lewis G., 25 
Clarke, Charles E., 72 
Clay, Cassius M., 158 
Clay Compromise, 74, 82 
Clay, Henry, 22, 44, 47, 70, 71, 74, 

82, 141 
Clayton-Bulwer Treaty, The, 81 
Clayton, Secretary, 80 
Cleopatra, The, 420 
Clinton, Governor, 24, 40, 53, 469 
Clotilde, Princess, 182 



476 



Index 



Coast Survey, The, 384 

Coatzacoalco, The steamer, 163 

Cobb, Howard, 71 

Cobb, Howell, 72 

Cochran, Paymaster, 269 

Coflfee-tree, The, 295, 296 

Coffin, Captain, 123 

Cold Harbour, Battle of, 250 

Colima, State of, 391 

Cologne, Martyrs at, 302 

Columbia, Pa., 107 

Columbia, Slavery in District of, 

74, 77, 83 

Columbus, Christopher, 275, 277, 
280, 302,311, 352 

Columbus, Diego, 314, 352 

Commanding generals. The, 238 

Compiegne, Visit to, 132 

Compromise Measures of 1850, The, 
114 

Conard, Agent, 316 

Concerts in Albany, 96 

Conducta, The, 418 

Confederates, 156; troops for the, 
153; blockade of, 160; Mercier 
with the, 183; deserted batteries 
of, 196; power of the, 242; deser- 
tions from the, 250 

Congress, The, 203 

Congressional Library, The, 83 

Conkling, Roscoe, 37, 108 

Connecticut, Dinner in honour of, 

93 

Conrad, Charles W., 71 
Continental Army, The, 4 
Continental Hotel in Philadelphia, 

135 
Contrabands, 202, 204, 233 
Contreras, Battle of, 411 
Cooperstown, A night at, 237 
Copperheads, Elation of the, 206 
Corbet, Mr., Visit to, 126 
Cordova, Mexico, 418 
Corinth, The army at, 204 
Cornell, Governor, 451 
Comwallis' headquarters, 232 
Corona, Maximilian captured by, 

407 
Cortez, Conquest by, 411, 416 
Corwin, 70 
Cotton is King, 161 
Couch, General, 238 
Courier and Inquirer, The, 88 
Cowboys, The marauders, 5 
Cowley, Lord, 130 
Cox, Mr., 145 
Craft, William and Ellen, 108 



Craney Island, 197 

Crimean War, The, 90 

Crispino e la Comare, 412 

Crittenden, John J., 25, 47 

Crittenden, Mr. and Mrs., 190 

Crompond, Village of, 7 

Cuba, Island of, 325 

Cuervo, Governor, 402 

Cueva, Governor, 391 

Cumberland, Arrival at, 196 

Cumberland, The, 203, 269 

Curtis, George W., 96 

Custom Houses, Treasury takes 

possession of the, 256 
Cutts, Captain, 324 

DaboU's Arithmetic, 27 
Dacotah, The, 200 
Daguerreotypes, 28 
Dahlgren, Captain, 173, 195, 199 
Dana, Chas. A., with the Tribune, 88 
Dardanelles, The, 300 
Davidson, Mr., 384 
D'Avila, Zuylen, 382 
Davis, General, 383, 385, 387 
Davis, Honest John, 25, 70 
Davis, Jefferson, 70; capture of, 261 
Dawson, George, 85, no 
Day Point, Battery at, 200 
Dayton, Minister, 70, 180, 216, 217 
Debate, The great, 75 
Decatur, Admiral, 141 
Declaration of Independence, The, 

138 
De Grasse, 449 
Delancey's Horse, 5 
Delavan house. The, 99 
De Long, Judge, 220 
Dempster concerts. The, 96 
Denmark, sympathy of, 217; St. 

Thomas taken by, 298; praise of, 

304 

Dennison, Postmaster, 254 

Derecho, Island of, 279 

De Soto, The steamer, 263, 267, 269, 

276, 306, 316, 342 
Devens, General, 445 
DeWitt, Simeon, 469 
Diary or Notes on the War, 172 
Diaz, President, 435 
Dickerson, Governor, 18 
Dickinson, Daniel S., 70, 79 
Diego, Juan, Vision of, 411 
Dimon, Mr., 368 
Diplomatic Corps, The, 236 
Disunionists, Efforts of, 147 
Diven, Congressman, 208 



Index 



477 



Dix, General, i66, 175, 233, 235 
Dix, Governor, 177 
Dix, John A., 160 
Dix, Morgan, 33 
" Doctor, " The horse, 9, 13 
Dodge, Mr., 459 
Don, The, 347 
Don Quixote, 395 
Douglas Island, 460 
Douglas, "Little Giant," 70; Sena- 
tor, 80; loyalty of, 155 
Draft Riots in N. Y., 236 
Draper, Simeon, 26, 54 
Dred Scott decision, The, 91 
Dulce, General, 332, 342 
Dunscomb, Collector, 115 
Durkee, Charles, 72 

Early, General, 243, 244, 245, 250 
Eclipse of the sun. An, 385 
Edwards Ferry, 206 
Elie, Minister, 321 
Elizabeth, Princess, 357 
EUicott's Mills, Retreat to, 244 
Ellis Bay, 122 
Ellsworth, Oliver, 140 
El Puente de Calderon, 404 
El Valle de Andorra, 401 
Emancipation Proclamation, 226 
£merence, The schooner, 115, 128 
England, war with, 141 ; anger in, 

187; trouble averted with, 190 
Episcopal Convention, The, 55 
Ericsson, The, 197 
Erie Canal, The, 36 
Ernani, Opera of, 400 
Escobedo, 407 
Eugenie, Empress, 128 
European affairs in 1848, 1 01 
European plots, 148 
Evarts, Secretary, 160, 433, 438, 439 
Evening Journal, The Albany, 84, 

no, 199 

F Street home. The, 68 
Falmouth, trip to, 229; ruins of, 

231 
Farragut, Admiral, 243, 250 
" Father Abraham," song, 208 
Fawn, The tame, 25, 38 
Faxon, Mr., 195 
Fifth Avenue Hotel, The, 450 
Fillmore, Millard, 57; becomes 

President, 82 
Fisher, Mr., 102 

Fisherman and the Genie, The, r?88 
Fishkill, Journey to, 7 



Flagg, Comptroller, 31 

Floating Gardens, The, 411 

Florida, The, 214 

Florida, Discovery of, 282 

Foote, Commodore, 194 

Ford's Theatre, Assassination of 

Lincoln at, 260 
Forrest, The actor, 37 
Fort Darling, 201 
Fort Donelson, Victory of, 194 
Fort Foote, 266 

Fort Henry, Capture of, 193, 194 
Fort Huger, Attack on, 200 
Fort Macon, Evacuation of, 194 
Fort McHenry, 175 
Fort Pickens, 146, 150 
Fort Stevens, 248 ; battle at, 249 
Fort Sumter, 146; reinforcement 

of, 150; fall of, 254 
Fort Tongass, 365 
Fort Warren, 186, 192, 226 
Fort Washington, 229, 265 
Fort Wrangel, 456 
Fortress Monroe, 197, 203, 233, 349 
Fortress Monroe Conference, 434 
Foster, John W., 436, 467 
Fountain of Youth, The, 281 
Fox, Captain, 191, 195 
France, trouble with, 140; ex- 
planations from, 150; feeling in, 

181 ; talk of intervention by, 215; 

Emperor of, 414 
Francis Joseph, Emperor, 131 
Frankenstein, Bust by, 28 
Franklin, General, 168, 197, 243 
Franklin, Life of, 27 
Franklin's battleground, 196 
Frederick City, Meeting at, 176, 177 
Frederick, King of Denmark, 382 
Frederick, rebels in, 206; Hardie at, 

239; invasion of, 243 
Fredericksburg, 195,228; troops at, 

231; battle of, 238 
Frederikstedt, the Consul at, 297; 

harbour of, 302 
Freeman, artist, 31 
Free-Soil Party, The, 69, 102 
Freestone, Batteries at, 266 
Fremont, Colonel, 75, 83 
French and Indian War, 1 1 
French delegates, The, 450 
French Emperor's address, 216 
French Empire, Fall of the, 185 
French Legation, The, 184 
French princes, the, 181; join 

Union Army, 1 84 ; at Cumberland, 

197 



(^ 



478 



Index 



Fugitive Slave Law of 1793, 113 
Fugitive Slave Law, The, 74, 78, 

83, 105, 114,445 
Fulton, Robert, 469 

Gadsby's Hotel, 17 

Galatea, The, 316, 323 

Galena, The, 200, 235 

Garcia, Don Jose, 350 

Garfield, President, Death of, 448 

Garibaldi, General, 90 

Garita de San Cosmo, 409 

Gasp^, Capt. Coffin of, 125 

Gassendi, The frigate, 173, 203 

Gautier, Captain, 203 

Gavit, The engraver, 28 

Geflfrard, President, 320, 326, 382 

Geneva, 237 

Geological Survey, The, 27 

George, King, 4, 20 

George, negro, 433 

Georgetown, 81 

Georgia Controversy, The, 27 

German delegates, 452 

Gerolt, Baron, 228, 233 

Gettysburg, The, 347, 349 

Gettysburg, Victory at, 216, 241, 242 

Ghent, Treaty of, 141 

Gibraltar, 222, 300 

Giddings, Joshua R., 71 

Giesboro, Cruise to, 264 

Gilbert, Dr., 233 

Gilliss,- Captain, 233 

Gilmore, General, 243 

Gloucester, Earthworks at, 196 

Gloucester Point, 232 

Gold in California, 70 

Golden City, The, 390 

Goldsborough, Commodore, 195, 
197 

Gonaives, Bay of, 315, 325 

Gonave, Island of, 315 

Goodrich, Judge, 228 

Gordon, 435 

Gortschakoff, Minister, 218, 360, 
382 

Gosport Navy Yard, 234 

Governor's Room, N. Y., 53 

Grabow, Baron, 228 

Grace, Mayor, 452 

Granger, Francis, 25, 57 

Grant, General, at Vicksburg, 212; 
at Wilderness, 244; commander, 
249; surrender to, 251 ; at Cabinet 
meeting, 254; President, 355, 
432, 439 

Gray, artist, 54 



Great Britain, A note to, 150 
Great Northern Railway, 456 
"Great Tyee, " The, 383 
Greeley, Horace, 45, 88 
Green, Andrew H., 453 
Greenbacks, 243 
Greenfield, Eliza, 96 
Greenwood, Grace, 104 
Grinnell, Moses H., 26, 54, 160 
Guadalajara, 396, 399, 405, 420 
Guadalupe Hidalgo, 141, 409, 411 
Guanajuato, 405 
Guatamozin Monument, 411 
Guerrero, Mexico, 414 
Gulf of Mexico, Operations in the, 

243 
Gwm, Dr., 75, 83 

Hale, John P., 70, 79, 96, 102 

Hall, Captain, 229 

Hall, Dr. Edward H., 470 

Halleck, General, 168, 205, 229 

Hampton Roads, Fleet at, 195 

Hampton, Ruins of, 233 

Hancock, General, 166, 238, 445, 451 

Hanseatic Cities, The, 236 

Hard, son of Senator, 60 

Hardie, General, 239 

Harding, Chester, 54 

Hards, The, 90 

Hardy's Bluff, 200 

Harper & Brothers, 2^ 

Harpers Ferry, 1 1 , 243 ; John Brown 
at, 131; attack on, 155 

Harrisburg, Pa., 11, 206 

Harrison, General, campaign of, 
44; death of, 48 

Hassan Bedreddin, 400 

Hatteras, Cape, 271, 354 

Havana, Cuba, arrival at, 283; 
Columbus at, 311; Morro Castle, 
329; architecture of, 330; bright- 
ness of, 332; Cathedral of, 333; 
sugar at, 334; Chinese labour, 
335; lottery at, 336; the Tacon 
Theatre, 340 

Haverstraw Bay, 451 

Hawley, Seth C, 56 

Hay, Drummond, 222 

Hay, Secretary, 466 

Hayes, Rutherford B., 431, 438, 439 

Hayti, "La Isla Espanola, " 302; 
arrival at, 315; U. S. Consulate 
at, 316; architecture of, 317; 
fertility of, 320; President 
Geffrard of, 320; presidents of, 
322; lack of enterprise at, 324 



Index 



479 



Haytian Republic, The, 270 
Heart of the A tides. The, 395 
Hebard, Engineer, 269 
Heintzelman, General, 205, 238 
Helderbarrack, First campaign of 

the, 53 
Helderberg War, The, 27, 48 
Henson, Josiah, 114 
Herald, The N. Y., 26, 88, 132 
Hercules factory, The, 407 
Herkimer, Adams at, 58 
Hesse-Cassel, Prince of, 20 
Hessians, The, 20 
Hewett, Captain, 199 
Hicks, Governor, 176 
Hidalgo, Padre, 404 
Hidalgo, Siege by, 405 
Hien Fung, 382 
Hill, James J., 456 
Hill, Samuel, 456 
Hilliard, Henry W., 71 
Hiogo, Japan, 372 
Hispaniola, 352 
Hitz, Consul-General, 217 
Hoffman, Ogden, 47 
Holland, Alexander, 60 
HolHday, Ben, 383 
Holt, 166 
Hooker, General, 166, 228, 229, 230, 

238 
Hospitals at Hampton, 233 
Hotel de Almy, 330 
Hotel de Angleterra, 339 
Houston, General, 70 
Howard, General, 238, 451 
Howell, Commander, 268 
Huarte, Juan Firmin, 392 
Hudson Centennial, 469 
Hudson, Henry, 469 
Hudson's Bay Company, 126, 359 
Hugo, Victor, 347 
Humboldt, 406 
Hungarian Liberty Association, The, 

98 
Hungarian Republic, The dream of 

a, 100 
Hunt, Governor, 99 
Hunter, Mr., 363, 369 
Hunter, William, 70, 142, 195 
Huntington, 54 
Husted, Speaker, 430 
Hutchinsons, The, 96 
Hydah Indians, 458 

Independence Hall, 138 
Independent Artillery, 51 
Indian Head, 266 



Inland Passage, The, 383 
Inman, Henry, 54 
Ino, The warship, 224 
Intervention, Efforts at, 215 
Irving, Washington, 20, 25, 26 
Isabella Secunda, Queen, 382 
Island No. 10, 194 
Island of the Holy Saviour, 302 
Isle d'Orleans, The, 115 
Italy, war in, 90; friendship of, 217 
Iturbide Theatre, The, 412 
Ixtaccihuatl, Mount, 411, 413, 417 

Jackson, General, 18, 72, 141 

Jackson, Dr. Sheldon, 458 

Jalisco, Coast of, 390, 399 

Jalos, City of, 404 

Jamaica, West Indies, 306 

James Battle, The, 269 

James River, expedition up the, 

200; the opening of, 201 
Jamestown, Visit to, 201 
Japan, treaty with, 142; indemnity 

of, 370; commission of, 371 
Jay, Col. William, 450 
Jefferson, Thomas, 188, 368; home 

of, 17; first message of, 140; 

proclamation by, 141 
Jefferso?nan, The, 88 
Jenny, The fawn, 24, 38 
Jerome Napoleon, Prince, 186 
Jette, Sir Louis Amale, 467 
"John Bull," The, 34 
John, Colonel, 19 
"Johnny Cook's Band," 29 
Johnson, Andrew, 344, 355, 373, 

439; becomes President, 260 
Johnson's Polar Bear Garden, 363 
Johnson, William, 9, 13 
Johnston, General, pursuit of, 250; 

surrender of, 261 
Joinville, Prince de, 183 
Jones, Senor, 402 
Jones, Wharton, Suit by, 113 
Juarez, President, 290, 391, 409, 

412, 419, 436 
Judd, Rev. Dr., 81 
Julius CcBsar, 37 
Juneau, 461 

Kalosh Indians, The, 386, 458 

Kamchatka, 357 

Kames, Elements of Criticism, 65 

Kane's Walk, 23, 95 

Kansas, Struggle in, 91 

Kearsarge, The, 250, 451 

Kenesaw Mountain, 250 



480 



Index 



Kennedy, Mr., 340 

Kent, Judge William, 96, 131 

Kernan, Senator Francis, 431 

Ketchikan P. O., 455 

Keyes, General, 232 

Key West, 149, 300 

Kidder, Dr., 269 

Kilpatrick, General, 250 

King, General Rufus, 26, 50, 232, 

435 
King, John A., -]!, 166, 450, 451 
King, Preston, 72 
King's Ferry, 451 
King, Thomas B., 71, 73 
Kirkpatrick, Thomas, 354 
Klakautch, Chief, 462, 384 
Klondike, The, 468 
Know-Nothing Party, The, 90 
Knoxville, Capture of, 243 
Kossuth, Louis, Visit of, 89, 96, 98 
Koszta case, The, 141 
Kung, Prince, 375 

Labour troubles, 442 

Labrador, voyage to, 120; Mingan 

in, 121; coast of Anticosti, 122; 

Ellis Bay, 122; Hudson's Bay Co., 

126 
La Cabana de Tom, 412 
La Calera, 392 
La Canada, 411 
La Cruz, Church of, 407 
Lacy House, The, 231 
Lafayette, Marquis, 141, 449 
La Malinche, 417 
Lamar, 435 
Lamb, Charles, 26 
Lamon, Col. Ward H., 135 
Landing of the Pilgrim Fathers, 119 
Lane, James H., 158 
La Purissima factory, 407 
Largos, Ignacio, 391 
Las Cases, Secretary, 471 
Las Cumbres, 417 
La Serena mine, 406 
Last Cabinet meeting, Lincoln's, 

254 
Lauriger Horatius, 178 
Lee, Admiral, Fleet of, 235 
Lee, Gen. Robert E., 168; pursuit 

of, 208; marching north, 239; 

driven to Wilderness, 250; 

surrender of, 251 
Legar6, Hugh S., 25, 47 
Lehigh, The, 235 
L'Enfant, Major, 140 
Leon, Mexico, 404 



Leon, Ponce de, 281 

Leopold, King, 382 

Lerdo de Tijada, Senor, 409, 412, 
415, 436 

Leutze, artist, 362 

Leuwenhaupt, Count, 447 

Lexington, Battle of, 5 

I'Huys, Drouyn de, 129, 217, 420 

Lincoln, Abraham, journey to 
Washington, 134; address in 
Philadelphia, 138; inauguration 
of, 145; office-seekers, 147; sugges- 
tions by Seward, 149; proclama- 
tion by, 152; praise by, 160; 
visits Gassendi, 174; deals with 
Maryland, 178; dines Prince 
Napoleon, 182; the Mason and 
Slidell Case, 189; call for 300,000 
men, 205; farmers' boys in 
battle, 206; the Emancipation 
Proclamation, 226; oysters for, 
233; visits to War Office, 243; 
visit to Fort Stevens, 248; re- 
election, 250; two proclama- 
tions, 252; visits Richmond, 253; 
last Cabinet meeting, 254; a 
strange dream, 255; invitation 
to the theatre, 257; assassina- 
tion, 260; grief for Lincoln, 261; 
funeral of, 261 ; portrait of, 322 

Lincoln, Robert, 135 

"Lion," The horse, 9, 13 

Little Falls, N. Y., 58, 237 

Livingston, Chancellor, 469 

Livingston, Robert R., 140, 450 

Lloyd, Captain, 455 

Lloyds, Insurance at, 214 

Locke, Mr., 269 

Lodge, Henry Cabot, 466 

Log Cabin, The, 45, 88 

Log Cabin Candidate, The, 45 

London Exchange, The, 216 

London Illustrated News, The, 124 

London Times, The, 92, 216 

Long Bridge, The, 157 

Long, Henry, 106 

Long Island, battle of, 19; silk- 
worms in, 43 

Los Capuchinos, 407 

Lottery tickets, 336 

Louisa, 203 

Louisiana, purchase of, 140, 368; 
march through, 243 

Louis Napoleon, 90, loi, 181 

Louis Philippe, King, 183 

Louis XIV.'s time, A map of, 115, 
132 



Index 



481 



L'Ouverture, Toussaint, 322 
Lower California, 390 
Ludlow, Colonel, 233 
Ludlowville, 9 
Lycoming Valley, 9 
Lydius Street, Albany, 34 
Lynn Channel, 461 
Lyons, Lord, 149, 179, 187, 191, 
236, 423 

MacArone, correspondent, 205 

Macbeth, 2,7 

Madison, President, 140, 141 

Magruder, General, 233 

Mamea, envoy, 440 

Manassas, rendezvous at, 158; 

reverses at, 181 ; Army of Virginia 

at, 206 
Manderstrom, 382 
Mangum, Senator, 70, 79, 102 
Man hunting on the border, 108 
Mann, Horace, 71 
Mann, Mrs. Horace, 105 
Man-of-war, life on a, 275; coaling 

a, 288 
Mansfield, General, 166, 203 
Manzanillo, Harbour of, 390 
Maracaibo, 294 
Maratanza, The, 200 
Marcy, Governor, 27, 31, 49 
Marfil, Canon of, 405 
Margaret and Jessie, The, 354 
Marinao, Cuba, 336 
Marine Band, The, 80 
Marseillaise, The, 183, 451 
Martinique, Coffee in, 295 
Maryland, journey through, II ; why 

it did not secede, 1 77 ; Confederate 

appeal to, 206 
Mason, Ambassador, 131 
Mason, Senator, 76, 79, 446 
Mason and Slidell, 186 
Massachusetts, the Eighth, 166; 

the Sixth, 154, 157 
Matsumoto Judayu, 372 
Matteson, O. B., 72 
Matthias Point, 266 
Matute, Senor, 400, 402 
Maximilian, Emperor, 217, 290, 

382, 407, 415, 435 
May, Rev. Samuel J., 108 
Maysi, Cape, 325 
Mazeppa, 37 
McClellan, General, 168, 175, 184, 

194, 196, 205, 208, 211, 228, 327 
McClemand, General, 72, 212 
McClintock, Commodore, 353 



McCook, General, at Fort Stevens, 
248 

McCreery, Secretary, 441 

McCulloch, Secretary, 254 

McGuire, Speaker, 430 

McHenry, Jerry, Case of, 108 

McKoun, Recorder, 49 

McLean, Judge, 113 

McLeod, case. The, 27 

Meade, General, 238 

Mejia, Trial of, 407, 415 

Memphis, Gen. Butler at, 194 

Mercier, French Minister, 173, 180, 
183, 236, 422 

Merrimac, The, 197, 203 

Mexico, war with, 69; treaty with, 
141; France in, 217; a talk on, 
290; Seward visits, 390; rising of 
181 1 in, 404; city of, 409; in- 
vasion of, 414, 435; first rail- 
road in, 415; conquest of, 416 

Middleton, Henry, 359 

Mikado, The, 382 

Miles, General, 165 

Miller, Andreas, 7 

Miller, Elijah, 8 

Miller, Josiah, 4 

Miller, Warner, 456 

Millroy, Colonel, 203 

Mill Spring, Victory at, 193 

Milton, II 

Mingan in Labrador, 121 

Minisink, Massacre at, 20 

Minnesota, Flagship, 197, 200, 235 

Minor, Consul, 329 

Minturn, 54 

Miramon, Trial of, 407 

Mirror, The, 26 

Mississippi, fortifying the, 169; 
opening of the, 242 

Missouri Compromise, Repeal o£ 
the, 91 

Missouri, Victory in, 193 

Mobile Bay, Battle of, 250 

Mohawk & Hudson R. R., The, 34 

Mohawk Valley, The, 51, 237 

Molina, Mr., 237 

Molino del Rey, Battle of, 411 

Mona Passage, The, 279, 327, 350 

Monitor, The, 200 

Monmouth, Battle of, 19 

Monocacy, Bridge at, 244, 246 

Monroe Doctrine, The, 141, 149 

Monroe, Secretary, 141; Minister to 
England, 188 

Montana, The, 390 

Monte de Piedad, 410 



482 



Index 



Montezuma, Alameda of, 409 
Montgomery, Confederates at, 154 
Montgomery, The, 269 
Monticello, 17, 18 
Moore, Mr., 297, 302 
Moorish episode, A, 219 
Moorish guards. Bribery of, 222 
Morehead, Mr., 102 
Morgan, The buccaneer, 294 
Morgan, George D., 160 
Morgan, Governor, 160, 431, 448 
Morocco, 220 
Morpeth, Lord, 25 
Morrill, Dr., 391 
Morro Castle, 329 
Morton, Senator, 80 
Morus multicaulis, 42 
Mosquera, President, 382 
Mother Carey's Chickens, 272 
Mount Edgecumbe, 457 
Mount Vernon, 17, 103, 185, 229, 

265 
Muir Glacier, 460 
Muley el Abbas, Prince, 224 
Murfreesboro, 212 
Myers, Lieutenant, 220 
Myers, Stephen, no 

Napier, Lord, 423 
Napoleon, 128, 178, l8l, 471 
Napoleon, Prince, 182 
Napoleon IIL, 128, 420 
Nashville, Destruction of the, 194 
Nassau, A stop at, 354 
National Era, The, 1 14 
National Guard, The, 451 
National Palace, Mexico's, 410, 412 
National Theatre, The, 414 
Natural Bridge, The, 16 
Naugatuck, The, 201 
Navy, increase in the, 161; new 

vessels in the, 212 
Nebraska Bill, The, 91 
Nelson, Envoy, 409 
Nesselrode, Diplomat, 359 
Neutral Ground, The, 5 
New England, Sunday in, 278 
New Jersey, Silk in, 43 
New Madrid, Victory at, 194 
New Mexico, a slave State, 83; 

acquisition of, 141 
New Orleans, Farragut at, 194 
Newport, Naval School at, 184, 236 
Newport News, 203, 235 
New Year's Day, 249, 266 
New York City Charter, 431 
New Yorker, The, 26 



New York, soldiers in, 5; evacuation 
of, 7; natural history of, 27; 
City Hall at, 53; 7th Regiment of, 
155; 71st Regiment, 159; 12th 
Militia of, 163; Russian fleet at, 
218 

New York State Library, 56 

Niagara Falls, The, 56, 132, 379, 452 

Nicaragua Treaty, The, 81 

Nicholas, Emperor, 360 

Nicholas Nickleby, 26 

Nichols, Proprietor, 37 

Nineteenth Army Corps, 249 

Ninety-Three, 347 

Ninth Avenue Elevated R. R., 431 

Ninth N. Y. Artillery, 244, 247 

Niskayuna, Shakers of, 277 

Noche Triste, 411 

Norfolk, Navy Yard, at, 155; re- 
vival at, 234 

Norris, Dr., 258 

Nott, Charies, 67 

Nott, Dr. EHphalet, 25, 31, 59 

Nott, Judge, 93 

Nott stoves, 24 

Nulhfiers, The, 72 

Occoquan, The, 266 

O'Connor, General, 354 

O'Hara, F. C. T., 466 

Ohio, Slavery in, 112 

Old Dominion, The, 11 

Old Hunkers, The, 90 

Old Line Whigs, The, 90 

Old Point Comfort, 270 

Ole Bull, 97 

Oliver Twist, 26 

Ometusco, 415 

Omnibus Bill, The, 79, 81 

Ono Tomogoro, 372 

Ontario County, N. Y., 43 

Oonalaska, 364 

Opdyke, George, 160 

Orange & Alexandria R. R., 158 

Orange County, N. Y., 19 

Ordinance of 1793, The, 113 

Oregon Debate, The, 360 

Orizaba, Mount, 417, 419; city of, 

418 
Orleans, Princes of, 183 
Osaka, Japan, 372 
Ossipee, The, 235 
O'Sullivan, IVIr., 420 
Otsego County, N. Y., 237 
Otsego Lake, 237 
Otumba, Battlefield of, 415 
Owasco Lake, 55 



Index 



483 



Ozama, The river, 307, 327, 350 

Packet boats, The, 36 

Page, artist, 54 

Pago-Pago, Harbour of, 440 

Palmer, Major, 197 

Pamunkey River, The, 196 

Panama, 294, 300 

Panama Canal, The, 439 

Panic of 1837, 21 

Pardons, Applicants for, 38 

Paris, A plot at, 216 

Paris Bourse, The, 216 

Paris, Comte de, 183 

Parker, Rev. Theodore, 108 

Parkman, Mr., 406 

Parodi concerts, 96 

Parsons, L. Sprague, 31 

Partagas & Son's factory, 339 

Partant pour la Syrie, 182 

Pasco, 37 

Paseo, The, 331, 411 

Paso del Macho, 419 

Patent Office, The, 68 

Patroons, The, 48, 430 

Patroon Street, 31 

Patti, Adelina, 97; Amalia, 97 

Paulding, Commodore, 156 

Pauncefote, Sir Julian, 142 

Pawnee, The ship, 156 

Peale, Titian R., 228, 230 

Pearl Street Academy, 31, 429 

Peck, Commissioner, 316 

Peking, Seward at, 380 

Peninsula, The, 206, 228 

Pennsylvania Avenue, 17 

Pennsylvania, Journey through, 11 

Penthievre, Due de, 184 

Perez, Senor, 404 

Perry, Commodore, 142 

"Peter," The dinner in honour of, 

184 
Peter the Great, 356 
Petersburg, arrivals from, 247; 

siege of, 250, 251 
Petion, President, 322 
Phillips, Captain, 420 
Phillips house. The, 231 
PhilHps, Mr., 287, 291 
Phillips, Wendell, 96, 114 
Piccolomini, 96 
Pierce, 90 

Pierre, The driver, 118 
Pimentel, General, 310 
Pinckney, 141 
Pine Bridge, 8 
Piney Point, 266 



Piper, Count, 228, 237 

Pittsburg, Rioting in, 442 

Pius IX., Pope, 382 

Plantain, The, 296 

Plaza de Armas, The, 331 

Poletica, Diplomat, 359 

Polk's Proclamation, 141 

Pomeroy, Congressman, 208 

Pope, General, 194, 206 

Popocatepetl, Mount, 409, 413, 417 

Port-au-Prince, 315, 318 

Port Hudson, Battle of, 242 

Port Royal, The, 201 

Port Royal, 353 

Porter, Admiral, 327 

Porter, Captain, 194 

Porter, David D., 346 

Porter, Gen. Andrew, 197, 339 

Porter, Peter B., 47 

Porto Bello, 294 

Porto Rico, 278, 280 

Portrait Gallery, The, 382 

Portsmouth, Rejoicing at, 199 

Portuguese discoverers, 301 

Potomac River, 1 1 ; Batteries on the, 
162; conflicts on the, 185; a 
voyage down the, 196; another 
voyage, 266 

Prado, President, 382 

Preble, Commodore, 141 

Presbyterian Seminary, 55 

President's Mansion, The, 17 

Prince, L. Bradford, 430 

Princeton, Battle of, 19 

Proclamation, Emancipation, The, 

305 
Prosperity during the war, 237, 

242 
Provincetown, Rinaldo at, 192 
Prussia, Sympathy of, 217 
Puebla, 415 
Puget Sound, 383 
Pujol, Don Pablo, 350 
Pulszky, Madame, 102 
Putnam, Harvey, 72 

Quails at San Domingo, 312 
Quebec, voyage to, 127; port of, 

300 
Queen Charlotte Sound, 455 
Queen of Spain, The, 81 
Queretaro, 382, 407 
Quincy, Josiah, 25 

Railroads, The early, 34 
Raleigh, Sir Walter, 271 
Ramsey, Colonel, 228/ 



484 



Index 



Rapid Transit Commission, 454 
Rappahannock, armies at, 212; 

march to the, 232 
Ravels, The, 340 
Raymond, Henry J., 88 
Reconstruction, Plans for, 256, 343 
Reed, Lieutenant, 269 
Reed, Professor, 60 
Registry Law, The, 27 
Reidsville, Assemblage at, 51 
Rendon, Luis, 391 
Rensselaerwyck, Manor of, 48 
Representatives, House of, 71 
Republican artillery, 51 
Republican convention, 431 
Republican party, rise of, 90, 146, 

344 
Resources of the North, 237 
Rivi&re, President, 322 
Revolution of 1820, The, 281 
Reynolds, General, 238, 239 
Richmond, slave market at, 16, 107; 

march toward, 194; armies at, 

204; siege of, 250, 251, 252 
Right of petition, The, 57 
Rinaldo, British frigate, 192, 199 
Rip Raps, The, 235 
Risley, Elijah, 72 
Roberts, Mr., 269 
Robinson, George T., nurse, 258 
Rochambeau, 449 
Rochester, Adams at, 57; the mills 

of, 237 
Rock Pinon, 411 
Rockville, Headquarters at, 175 
Rodman, Mr., 456 
Rogier, 382 
Rome, N. Y., 237 
Romero, Minister, 409, 412, 415, 

419. 436 
Romero y Vargas, Governor, 417 
Root, Elihu, 466 
Rosecrans, General, 212, 243 
Roumain, General, 321 
Rowland, Captain, 349 
Rubio factories. The, 407 
Ruggles, 54 
Rush, Richard, 359 
Russell, Earl, 382 
Russia, explanation from, 150; 

friendship of, 218; two fleets 

from, 218; representative of, 237; 

Alaska sold by, 361, 463 
Russian Fur Company, The, 360 

Sabine Pass, 243 
Sackett, William A., 72 



Sacrificial stone, Aztec, 410 

St. Cyr Cadets, The, 171 

St. George and the Dragon, 37 

St. Helena, 471 

St. John's, 368 

St. John's Church in Washington, 

147 

St. John, West Indies, 304 

St. Nicholas Mole, 327 

St. Paul, Minn., Seward at, 359 

St. Petersburg, Legation at, 218 

St. Thomas, landing at, 283; 
splendour of, 284; houses at, 286; 
churches, 287; General Santa 
Anna, 290; legends of, 293; the 
coffee- tree, 295; commercial char- 
acter, 297; history of, 298; pro- 
posal to purchase, 346, 368; port 
of, 438 

Salamanca, 406 

Samana, port of, 327; bay of, 350 

Samoa, Story of, 437 

San Augustin, 399 

San Domingo, Spain seizes, 149; 
coast of, 279; coffee from, 306; 
arrival at, 307; architecture of, 
309; President Baez, 309; recogni- 
tion of, 310; grave of Columbus, 
311; laziness at, 314; church of, 
330; a diplomatic visit to, 344; 
offers to join U. S., 356; treaty 
with, 356; monarchy of, 414 

Sandwich Islands, King of, 81 

San Fernando, Graves at, 411 

Sanford, Mr., at Paris, 178 

San Francisco, Russian fieet at, 218; 
Seward at, 383 

Sangamon, The, 235 

San Jos^, Festival of, 396 

San Juan, 415 

San Juan de los Lagos, 404 

San Juan del Rio, 408 

San Juan de Ulloa, 419 

San Marcos, Hacienda of, 395 

San Miguel de Belan, Hospital of, 
400 

San Pedro, 404 

San Salvador, Island of, 275, 302 

Santa Ana Acatlan, 399 

Santa Anna, General, 290 

Santa Clara, Convent of, 311 

Santa Cruz, voyage to, 272; 
arrival at, 302; harvests of, 303; 
Danes of, 304; industry at, 305; 
port of, 439 

Sant' Anita, 399 

Savannah, Capture of, 250 



Index 



485 



Sayula, Town of, 398 
Schenck, Robert C., 71 
Schenectady, N. Y., 34, 237; 

College of, 447 
Schermerhorn, A. M., 72 
Schleiden, Mr., 228, 236, 419 
Schoolcraft, John L., 72 
School district libraries, 27 
School system. The, 27 
Schuyler mansion, 430 
Scott, General, 25, 72, 90, 134, 157, 

165 
Sebastopol, 300 
Secession, The ordinance of, 150, 

154 

Seigneurs, The, 126 

Selfridge, Lieutenant, 200 

Seneca Falls, 9, 237 

Seneca Lake, 237 

Serrano, General, 310 

Seven Days' Battles, The, 204 

Seventh of March speech. The, 76 

Seventh Regiment, The, 451 

Sewall's Point, 197 

Seward, Fanny, 204, 258 

Seward, Frederick W., first recol- 
lections, I ; journey to Albany, 2 ; 
a carriage journey, 8; Southern 
hospitality, 12; first visit to 
Washington, 17; visit to the 
President, 18; the panic of 1837, 
21 ; visit by Clay, 22; New Year's 
at Albany, 28; school in Albany, 
31; early railroad experiences, 34; 
early theatrical memories, 36; 
the Morus multicaulis, 42; the 
Harrison campaign, 44; theHeld- 
erberg War, 48 ; an artistic contest, 
53; father's portrait, 56; entering 
college, 58; leaving college, 66; in 
Washington, 68; secretary to 
father, 68 ; admitted to the Bar, 84 ; 
in journalism, 84; editorials by, 
89; a new word, 91 ; Thanksgiving, 
92; life in Albany, 95; the Hun- 
garian Liberty Ass'n., 99; a 
voyage, 116; the Baltimore plot, 
134; meets Robert Lincoln, 135; 
meets Abraham Lincoln, 136; 
Assistant Secretary of State, 139; 
a month of suspense, 145; a 
bearer of messages, 147; the call 
to arms, 150; a college classmate, 
161; St. Cyr Cadets, 171; under 
fire, 173; visit from Ministers, 
179; after Bull Run, 181; receives 
Prince Napoleon, 182; at Brazil- 



ian Legation, 184; Trollope at 
dinner with, 190; a cruise, 194; 
at Fort Huger, 201 ; a season of 
reverses, 204; the military situa- 
tion, 212; foreign relations, 213; 
a Moorish episode, 219; letter to 
Morocco, 226; the Emancipation 
Proclamation, 227; a visit to the 
army, 228; an excursion with 
diplomats, 236; changing generals, 
238; aspects of the war, 242; at 
Fort Stevens, 248; the year's 
record, 249; end of the war, 251; 
message from Lincoln, 254; 
assassination night, 258; attempt 
on life, 259; after the assassina- 
tion, 262; cruise to West Indies, 
263; a stormy voyage, 270; at 
tropic of Cancer, 275 ; St. Thomas, 
283; dinner with the Governor, 
292; at Santa Cruz, 302; at San 
Domingo, 306; at Hayti, 315; 
at Havana, 327; dines with the 
Captain-General, 339; homeward 
bound, 342 ; at Washington, 343 ; a 
diplomatic visit to San Domingo, 
344; a stormy voyage, 348; re- 
ports progress, 355; story of 
Alaska, 356; purchase of Alaska, 
360; Seward's diary, 365; Orien- 
tal indemnity, 368 ; envoys from 
China, 377; the portrait gallery, 
382; visit to Alaska, 383; Napo- 
leon III., 420; a talk with de 
I'Huys, 420; retires to the coun- 
try, 429; writes father's memoirs, 
429; legislative life, 429; again 
Assistant Secretary, 433; in- 
terview with Stephens, 434; the 
story of Samoa, 437; a Pittsburg 
mob, 441; country life, 447; the 
Yorktown Centennial, 450; taxa- 
tion in New York, 453; visit to 
Alaska, 455 ; letter to Tribune, 464 

Seward, Grandfather, 18 

Seward, Col. John, 19 

Seward, Mrs., 456 

Seward Street, 461 

Seward, William H., Governor, 24; 
portraits of, 54; at Union College, 
58; Senator, 71; speech on 
slavery, "j-j; the slaveholders' 
dream, 80; defends Van Zandt, 
113; voyage to Anticosti, 120; 
visit to Europe, 128; an abolition- 
ist, 131; sees the Emperor, 132; 
appointed Secretary of State, 



486 



Index 



Seward, William H. — Continued 
142; presented with a cane, 145; 
takes charge of foreign affairs, 
147; suggestions for Lincoln, 149; 
prepares blockade, 160; visits 
camps, 167; receives French and 
English Ministers, 180; circular 
dispatch, 181, 193; visit of Prince 
Napoleon, 182; the Trent case, 
187; praise for, 191; inspects fleets, 
195; letter to daughter, 204; 
Conference of Governors, 205; 
a conference at home, 207; dinner 
to Russians, 218; New Year's 
Day, 22^; visits troops, 228; 
visits Suffolk, 233 ; the diplomatic 
corps, 236 ; at Fort Stevens, 248 ; 
Confederate deserters, 251; a 
carriage accident, 251; last meet- 
ing with Lincoln, 253; attempt to 
kill, 259; sentinels on guard, 261; 
trip to West Indies, 263; the 
"Bulldog" affair, 270; welcome 
at St. Thomas, 292; interest in 
West Indies, 304; visits President 
Baez, 310; visits President Gef- 
frard, 321 ; saluted at Hayti, 323; 
at Havana, 332; speech at St. 
Paul, 359; purchase of Alaska, 
363; diary of, 365; memoirs of, 
367; commissioners from Japan, 
374; visit to China, 380; "Great 
Tyee " in Alaska, 3S3; retires 
from office, 383; invited to Mexico, 
390; welcome in Mexico, 398; 
a ball in honour of, 401 ; dinner in 
honour of, 413; departure from 
Mexico, 415; speech at Cholula, 
417; at Vera Cruz, 419; letter 
to Juarez, 419; visit to Cuba, 
420; visits Paris, 420; death of, 
429 

Seward, William H., Jr., 244, 247 

"Seward's Folly," 363 

Seward's Works, iy2 

Shadrach, Case of, 107 

Shakers, The, 277 

Shakespeare, WilHam, 26, 66, 271 

Sharon Springs, 237 

Sharpsburg, Armies at, 208, 211 

Shelikoff, Governor, 358 

Shenandoah Valley, The, 11, 243, 
250 

Sheridan, General, 250 

Sherman, General, 168; advance of, 
250; telegram to, 260 

Sherwood stages, The, 35 



Shields, General, 194 

Shields, Senator, 80 

"Shinplasters," 21 

Shreveport, March on, 243 

Siberia, Explorations in, 357 

Sibley, Henry K., 72 

Sickles, General, 231, 238 

Sidi Mohammed Bargash, 220 

Sierra Madre, The, 394 

Silkworms, 42 

"Silver Spring," 245 

Simonton, James W., 99 

Sims, Thomas, Case of, 107, 445 

Sing Sing prison, 41 

Sitka, castle at, 358; commissioners 
_ at, 364, 383, 457 

Sixth Corps, The, 248 

Skagway, 461 

Skinners, The marauders, 5 

Slaveholders' Dream, The, 80 

Slavery, J. Q. Adams on, 57; re- 
striction of, 74; discussions on, 91; 
captures, 106; dividing line in, 
112; the issues of, 149; speech on, 

413 

Smallwood, Joseph, 264, 273 

Smith, Capture of William, 107 

Smith, Capt. John, 201 

Smith, E. Peshine, 85, 91 

Smith, Gerrit, 108 

Smith, Somers, 350 

Smith, Truman, 80 

Smithsonian, The, 69 

Smugglers at St. Thomas, 299 

Snyder, Major, 247 

Softs, The, 90 

Soldiers, Wounded, 248 

Soule, Pierre, 70 

South Carolina, Nullification by, 

141 
South College, 60 
Southern Cross, The, 278, 315 
Southern Press, The, 102 
South Mountain, Victory at, 212, 

243 
South Pearl Street, 24 
Spain, treaty with, 141; note to, 

150; jealousy of, 213; war with, 

Spanish-American revolutions, 352 
Spanish discoverers, 301 
Spanish Main, The, 279 
Spaulding, Elbridge G., 72 
Speed, Attorney-General, 254 
Spencer, Ambrose, 25, 37 
Spencer, John C, 25 
Spinner, Francis E., 431 



Index 



487 



Spokane, Steamer, 455 
Spottsylvania, Battle of, 250 
Stanley, Edward, 71 
Stanton, Frederick P., 71 
Stanton, Secretary, 166, 207, 238, 

243, 255, 260 
State Department, The old, 139; 

new building of, 141 
State governments. Restoring, 256 
State prison at Auburn, 57 
State Street, Albany, 34 
Staunton, Va., 16 
Stephens, Alexander H., 71, 432 
Steuben, Baron, 449, 452 
Stevens, John A., 450 
Stevens, Thaddeus, 71, 84, 345 
Stewart, Lispenard, 450 
Stoeckl, Mr., 236, 360 
Stone, Colonel, 134, 166 
Stonewall, The, 374 
Stowe, Harriet Beecher, 114 
Strakosch, 97 
Strasburg, Retreat to, 194 
Stratton, Colonel, 203 
Suffolk, Post at, 233 
Sumner, General, 168 
Sumner, George, 96 
Sumner, Lieutenant, 268 
Sumner, Senator, 139, 362, 373 
Sumter, The cruiser, 220, 222 
Sun Chia Ku, 376 
Sun, The N. Y., 89 
Susquehanna, The, 198, 200 
Sweden, sympathy of, 217; minister 

from, 237; Queen of, 447 
Swedish Legation, 447 
Swiss Bellringers, The, 96 
Switzerland, Anxiety in, 217 
Syracuse, N. Y., 35, 237 

Taber, Azor, 52 
Tacher, Colonel, 120 
Tacon Theatre, The, 331, 340 
Tacubaya, 411, 414 
Taft, Lieut. -Col., 244 
Taku Glacier, 460 
Talleyrand, Treaty with, 140 
Tangier, City of, 219 
Tarleton, Colonel, 6 
Tarleton's Dragoons, 5 
Tassara, Seiior, 150, 236 
Taxation in New York, 453 
Taylor, President, 69, 72, 82 
Techaluta, 398, 400 
Tehuacan, 415 

Telegram, Origin of the word, 91 
Telegraph, Intercontinental, 218 



Tempest, The, 270 
Ten Eyck, John, 85 
Ten Eyck, Philip, 85 
Ten Eyck, Visscher, 85 
Tennallytown, fortifications at, 175; 

road to, 247 
Tennessee, Regaining, 193 
Tepeaca, City of, 417 
Tepetitlan, 398 
Territories, The new, 73 
Texas, debt of, 74; script, 83; 

boundary bill, 83; annexation of, 

141 
Tezcoco, Lake, 411 
Thayer, Mrs. G. W., 456 
Thayer, Rufus H., 456 
Thayer, Samuel R., 456 
Theatre, Memories of the, 36 
Thirteen, Committee of, 79 
Thlinket Indians, 458 
Thomas, General, Victory, of, 193 
Thompson, Jacob, 71 
Thornton, Sir Edward, 440 
Thouvenel, 178, 382 
Tilden, Governor, 430, 433 
Times, the N. Y., Founding of, 89 
Tio Joaquin, 407 
Tippecanoe and Tyler, 44 
Titus, Great-grandmother Paulina, 

4,6 
Tlascala, City of, 416 
Todos Santos, Festival of, 405 
Tom Cringle's Log, 36 
Tompkins, Governor, 24, 40, 469 
Tonila, Mexico, 395 
Toombs, Robert, 71 
Tortuga, Island of, 294 
Tower of London, 26 
Tracy, Uncle, 2 

Treasury Building, the new, 140 
Tredwell mine, The, 460 
Trent Affair, The, 186, 215, 468 
Trenton Falls, 237 
Trescott, Secretary, 142, 435 
Tribune, Letter to the, 464, 466 
Tribune, The N. Y., 45, 88 
Trollope, Anthony, 190 
Troops, the call for, 152; raising 

new, 207 
Troy City Guards, 51 
Tucker, Mr., 197 
Tung Chi, 382 

Tunstall, U. S. Consul, 220, 226 
Turner, George, 466 
Tuscarora, The, 223 
Tweed Ring, The, 89 
Two Years Before the Mast, 27 



488 



Index 



Tycoon of Japan, The, 382 
Tyler, President, 141 

Uncle Tom's Cabin, in, 114, 412 

Underground Railroad, The, 109 

Underwood, Henry, 26 

Union army in the West, The, 193 

Union College, 59, 161, 448 

Union Guards, Ttae, 51 

United States, The, 197 

Upham, Senator, 80 

Ursula, Saint, 302 

Utah, Territory of, 79 

Utica, N. Y., Railroad at, 35, 237 

Utrecht, The Treaty of, 215 

Valenciano mine. The, 406 

Van Allen, York, 39 

Van Buren, John, 49 

Van Buren, President, 21, 69 

Vandalia, The, 451 

Vanderbilt, Cornelius, 450 

Vanderbilt, The, 197 

Vanity Fair, quoted, 205 

Van Rensselaer, family, 48; 

General, 48; Stephen, 49; Court- 

landt, 49 
Van Rensselaer Guards, 51 
Van Rensselaer mansion, 430 
Van Schleinitz, 382 
Van Trompe, John, 115 
Van Valkenburg, Congressman, 208 
Van Valkenburg, General, 371, 375 
Van Zandt, John, in 
Vamum, General Jas. B., 450 
Vega, General, 395 
Venice, Liberation of, 90 
Venta de los Pajaros, 404 
Vera Cruz, 294, 414, 419 
Verplanck, Gulian C, 27 
Vicksburg, siege of, 212; fall of, 

216; battle of, 242 
Victor Emmanuel, 90 
Victoria, B. C, 383 
Victoria Hotel, Nassau, 354 
Victoria, Queen, 80, 440 
Viel6, General, 197, 234 
Ville de Malaga, The, 222 
Vinton, Samuel F., 71 
Virginia Controversy, 27 
Virginia, valley of, 11; travel in, 12 ; 

mother of Presidents, 13; slavery 

in, 13; secession of, 146, 150, 154 
Virgin Islands, The, 302 
Virgin Mary, The, 411 
Vlangally, Minister, 380 
von Schlozer, Dr., 440 



Wachusett, The, 200 

Walewski, Minister, 129, 424 

Walker, Captain WilUam M., 268, 
340 

Walker, Consul, 297 

Walker, Robert J., 367 

Wallace, General, 244, 246 

" Walrussia," 363 

Wan Siang, 375, 380 

War of 1812, The, 191 

War, The ending of the, 252 

Ward, Death of, 266 

Washburne, E. B., 138 

Washington, visit to, 17; plan of, 
140; plans to attack, 154; siege 
of, 155; defence of, 158; menaced 
from Frederick, 206; Early's raid, 
243; attack on, 244; prepara- 
tions for attack, 247; fortifica- 
tions at, 248; relief of, 249; re- 
joicing in, 253 

Washington, George, 8; early cam- 
paigns, of, II; Colonel Seward 
under, 19; Life by Irving, 20; 
home of, 185; bust of in Ha3rti, 
322; guns used by, 449 

Washington Market, 288 

Washington Navy Yard, 375 

Washington's Bible, 104 

Washington's Birthday, 138 

"Washington's Chamber," 16 

Washington's Headquarters, 232 

Webster, Daniel, 25, 47, 70, 76, 79, 
141 

Webster s Dictionary, 34 

Webster, E. D., 192 

Weed, Thurlow, 26, 27, 84, 448 

Weed, Uncle, 2 

Welles, Secretary, 195, 254 

Wellington, Duke of, 359 

Wells College, 304 

Wells, Mr., 304 

Wentworth, John, 72 

West College, 61 

Westerlo Street, 23 

Western international law, 378 

West Indies, A cruise to the, 265 

West Point, graduates of, 168; gun- 
boats at, 196, 451 

Weyer's Cave, 16 

Wheaton, Henry G., 52 

Wheaton's International Law, 379 

Wheeler, Congressman, 208 

Whelan, Dr. and Mrs., 195 

Whigs, Collapse of the, 90 

White Pass Railroad, 461, 462 

White Plains, Battle of, 19 



Index 



489 



Whittier, John G., 114 
Wilberforce, Portrait of, 322 
Wilderness, Battle of the, 244; Lee 

at, 250 
Wilkes, Captain, 193 
Wilkesbarre, Pa., 107 
Willard's Hotel, Lincoln at, 139 
William, Head-waiter, 24 
WilUamsport, 11 
Wilmot, David, 71 
Winchester, Retreat from, 194 
Windward Islands, The, 299, 325 
Winne, Giles, 85 
Winne, Jacob, 85 
Winslow, Captain, 250 
Winthrop, Robert C, 71 
Wise, Rabbi, 99 



"Woman in White," The, 411, 413 
Wool, General, 200 
Wormley's Hotel, 372 
Worth Monument, The, 451 
Wrangel, Fort, 365, 456 

Yates, Governor, 24 
Yeddo, Japan, 372 
York River, 195, 196, 233 
Yorktown, earthworks at, 196, 197, 

232; centennial of, 447, 449 
Yukon River, The, 364, 456, 463 

Zacoalco, 398 
Zapotlan, Town of, 396 
Zapotlanejo, Church at, 404 
Zaragoza, Victory of, 416 



Secret Diplomatic 
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Count Hayashi 

Late Ambassador to Great Britzun ; Foreign Minis- 
ter and Minister of Commerce and Agriculture 
at the Court of Japan 

8°. $2.50 

In this volume the veteran Japanese diplomat 
traces some of the great consummations of 
recent Japanese diplomacy. The author, as the 
Ambassador from the Mikado's Empire to the 
Court of St. James's, had a large measure of 
responsibility for the shaping of the Anglo- 
Japanese alliance. His verbatim account of 
the diplomatic play of forces gives a very clear 
impression of the conduct of this important 
affair of state. 

Of especial interest to American readers are 
also the chapters in which the author discusses 
the Americo-Japanese Convention of 1909, and 
reviews the foreign policy of Japan. 



G. P. Putnam's Sons 

New York London 



Memories of a 
Publisher 

By 
George Haven Putnam, Litt.D. 

Author of " Memories of My Youth," " Books and 

Their Makers in the Middle Ages," " Abraham 

Lincoln," etc. 

5°. mth "Portrait. Price, $2.00 

In this volume, the author continues his 
personal reminiscences from 1865, the date to 
which had been brought the narrative in his 
earlier book " Memories of My Youth. " 

The book contains also some record of the 
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firm from the year of its organization. 

The author records what he can remember 
of the people with whom he has had personal 
relations on both sides of the Atlantic during the 
fifty years since 1865, and he gives also his own 
views in regard to certain questions of the day 
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Reform, Copyright International and Domestic, 
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My Path Through Liie 

By Lilli Lehmann 

Translated from the German by 
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8°. About 500 pp. With 50 Illustrations 

$S.50 net 

Mme. lyehmann gives us a volume of memoirs, 
musical and personal, which will command the 
attention of the world-wide public which this 
great singer has charmed. The book is written 
with her characteristic sincerity and frankness. 
She unfolds the complete story of her life, de- 
voting a generous measure of attention to her 
friends and rivals upon the operatic stage. 

Her achievements in Prague, Leipsic, Vienna, 
and elsewhere, her struggles in Berlin, her ex- 
tended tours in Europe and America, are fasci- 
natingly told. She presents an account of her 
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tells of her experiences at Court. 

The pleasant as well as the arduous aspects of 
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G. P. Putnam*s Sons 

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Clara Louise Kellogg, who is now Clara Louise Stra- 
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the Academy of Music, in New York, in 1 86i , she appeared 
in opera in London and later in Berlin, Vienna, and Saint 
Petersburg. In every country she was received with 
acclaim and returned to her native land covered with 
honors showered upon her by the best audiences that 
the old world affords. 

Miss Kellogg created the r61e of Marguerite in Gounod's 
Faust in this country, and of Mignon in Ambroise 
Thomas's opera of that name. After winning laurels 
in Italian opera she organized an English opera company 
of her own, which sang for several seasons in New York 
and the principal cities of the United States. While at 
the head of her own company she produced Wagner's 
Flying Dutchman for the first time in America, creating 
the r61e of Senta, and she was the first prima donna to 
sing A'ida and Carmen in English. Miss Kellogg was 
famous not only for the beautiful quality of her voice but 
for her marvelous musical ear. It is said that there were 
over forty operas that she could sing on twenty-four 
hours' notice, and that never once in the course of her 
operatic career had she been known to sing a fraction of 
a tone off the key. 

These Memoirs are filled with anecdotes of the interest- 
ing people whom she met, on and off the stage, and con- 
tain a fund of information about voice culture and the 
study of music that no one interested in the subject can 
read without profit. 

New York G. P. Putnam's Sons London 


















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